


left all the stars in your city nights

by petals



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American AU, Casual Sex, Coming Out, Explicit Sexual Content, Football | Soccer, M/M, Minor Zayn Malik/Louis Tomlinson, Past Liam Payne/Sophia Smith, Secret Relationship, Switching, lots of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 05:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3838855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petals/pseuds/petals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“He’s got a roommate?” Niall asks, frowning.</p><p>“Yeah, but he usually only hangs out with grad students. I mean, it’s a smart plan all things considered. I think there’s like a rule that all graduate students have to TA, so like, it probably helps him with his grades or something. I don’t know. I’ve met him a few times but Zayn swears he’s great," Louis explains. </p><p>Liam nods, taking another drink from his glass, turning in time to see Zayn. He smiles at him but his smile falls immediately when Harry steps out from behind him, standing there smirking at Liam. He remembers him, obviously. They just fucked last night.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>Liam’s screwed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	left all the stars in your city nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlepinkbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlepinkbow/gifts).



> Written for littlepinkbow, who graciously offered me more prompts when I had an inspiration block, which in the grand scheme of things worked out for the best, because this is a combination of three of their prompts.
> 
> Please take all sport (soccer) and medical (Harry sprains his ankle) information with a grain of salt because my knowledge about both was in the negatives before this, so despite some research, I'm not a professional. Also, just roll with me on the dorms. I know it's not standard for closets, full bath and kitchen, but that's what mine was...so that's what the boys get. 
> 
> Thank you to my lovely J for helping me with the beta, all remaining mistakes are my own. Don't know them, don't own them, and please don't put this on any other site!

Liam makes a show of pulling his notes out for class. He knows that Louis is watching him, a frown on his face from across the room, where he’s getting dressed. It’s not Liam’s fault, not really. He really does have a ton of homework that he needs to get sorted through, and yeah, he has no intention of getting to it tonight, but Louis doesn’t need to know that.

So Liam sifts through the papers in his folder, pulling the ones out from his lit class that he signed up for, and sets them in a neat pile to his left. He wants Louis to see exactly how much reading he has to get through when he begs Liam to come out.

And if some of these packets are from weeks ago, well…no one really needs to know that.

“You know Liam, this is the third Friday in a row that you’ve skipped out on me. I’m starting to think that you want nothing to do with me,” Louis says, and Liam can hear his footsteps as he walks across the room, so he makes a show of dropping his shoulders and sighing.

“Lou, I wish that I could, but I’m really behind in my lit class,” he says, swiveling his chair around to look at Louis, taking in his dark jeans and tight fitting white shirt. “I mean, look at all of this reading.”

Louis follows Liam’s movements, turning his nose up at the stack of papers. “You could probably read that twice as fast if you were drunk, did you know?”

“And I wouldn’t be able to process any of the information and remember it for the exam.”

Louis sighs, throwing his hands up in the air. “I don’t know why I try and help you, Payne. You’re always finding the absolute worst in every situation. You’re one of those…those… What are they called?”

“A pessimist.”

“Yes, that’s what you are,” Louis says, nodding to himself as he drops down on Liam’s bed to put his shoes on.

Honestly, the bedroom situation in their room is all off. Louis spends most of his time on Liam’s side of the dorm, not liking how his side is where the windows are, which Liam would enjoy, actually. He’d like to have his desk pressed against the glass so he can stare out the window when he needs a mental break. And he’d like waking up to the sun breaking through the blinds, making it easier to get to his nine am classes.

But Liam thinks even with a bed swap Louis would still spend all of his time on Liam’s side.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to come out tonight?” Louis asks once more, shoving his wallet into his back pocket.

“I’m really behind, Lou. You know that I would if I could,” he lies, and he only feels a little awful about it. He doesn’t like blowing off plans with his friends, but sometimes it feels like the only thing he really can do when he wants to go out. When he needs to go out.

Louis sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “Well, if you change your mind then give me a call.”

“Yeah, of course,” Liam agrees, leaning back in his chair. “Are you staying at Zayn’s tonight?”

Louis wiggles his eyebrows at that, offering Liam a suggestive wink. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yeah, because I just want to know if I should leave some water on your desk for you, and maybe a bottle of aspirin. Since I’m such a good roommate, after all.”

“No. Thank you, though, mother. But it’s the weekend, so that means Zayn’s roommate is going to be disappearing, which means we have his room to ourselves,” Louis explains, grabbing one of Liam’s hoodies. “We’re going to spend some much needed time together.”

“Well, have fun with that,” Liam says, grinning and offering Louis a wave.

“Oh I will, darling,” Louis says, smiling wickedly as he closes the door, disappearing from Liam’s sight.

Liam waits ten minutes, long enough to be sure that Louis won’t come back because he’s forgotten something, and long enough to make sure that he’s with Zayn, who wouldn’t let him come back anyway, before he’s pushing off his chair and getting in the shower, wanting to get ready for the night.

>>>>

The thing about Liam is that he lives a double life. Well, not really. He just hasn’t come out to his friends, so every Friday – or every Friday that he can get away with it – he sneaks away to a club that’s nearly an hour away. It’s a long commute, but so far it’s the only club that Liam hasn’t had an sightings of anyone he knows. So while it is a pain in the ass to have lie every week to his best friends, it’s worth it.

Or so he likes to think, anyway.

Tonight he’s wearing a mesh football jersey, black with the number seventy-nine painted across his front. There’s a white tank underneath, because it’s not really like Liam to want to show off his body that much. But it’s a look that not even Louis would think Liam would wear, making it easier for him to blend into the crowd.

Liam twists his snapback around as he walks into the club, so the brim is facing forward. The lights are flashing, music thumping, so loud and so intense that Liam’s almost positive it changes the beating of his heart for a second.

He hides under his hat as he walks towards the bar, carefully maneuvering through the sea of bodies until he’s where he wants to be, the perfect location for crowd scanning, to make sure that no one is here. No one he knows, anyway. Louis has a knack for wanting to go to every gay bar in the state, wants to fuck Zayn in the bathroom of them all, at least that’s what he tells Liam. Liam thinks he just gets bored of the same scene over and over again.

When Liam’s confident that no one will be telling the entire campus that Liam Payne was looking for a fuck across town, he turns towards the bar, flagging down the bartender. He orders a shot, needing something to calm his nerves.

He’s been doing this for a year and a half, but that doesn’t make it any less nerve wracking, to want to have a good time while worrying that you might out yourself before you’re ready. It’s fucking terrifying.

Liam downs the shot in one go, feeling the liquid burn as it goes down his throat.

“Can I get you another?” Someone asks, sliding in next to him, their hand on the small of his back.

Liam turns to look at him, his mouth almost dropping open when he gets a good look at the boy, the club lights flashing bright white for a moment, showing off the boy’s strikingly green eyes, head of long, shaggy, curly hair, down to his shoulders. He’s as tall as Liam is but slim, shoulders broad and narrowing down to his hips. His shirt is sheer, pink flowers littering the surface. The buttons undone just above his navel, revealing… Well, Liam thinks he’d look much better topless, so the shirt is covering far too much, actually.

“So what’ll it be?” The boy asks, pulling Liam closer, hunching over a little like it’s necessary to hear Liam’s response.

“Rum and coke,” Liam says, still looking at the boy. He’s fucking gorgeous. And Liam’s never been approached so quickly, and he really wants to be fucked tonight.

“Make that two,” the boy says, already handing the bartender money for the drinks. “So what’s your name?”

And this is where it’s all going to fall to shit, Liam thinks. He never gives out his real name, even to strangers that he wants to bend over the table. It’s a safety measure, designed to make sure none of this can be tracked back to his real life, the life he lives outside of this club.

“James,” Liam says, grabbing his drink off the bar and taking a sip of it, raising an eyebrow when the other boy doesn't answer.

“Harry,” he says, his voice deep and thick. He moves to grab Liam’s hat, twisting it around so that it’s on backwards, smirking when he gets a clear shot of Liam’s face. “Much better.” His hand rests on Liam’s shoulder, sliding down his arm and settling on his waist. “So James, it’s Friday night and you’re here alone, yeah?”

“Seems that way.”

Liam hates small talk. He hates flirting. He’s not very good at it. And he doesn’t really see the point in it, not when he’s only come out for one thing. And as bad as it might sound, he’s not really in the mood to make Harry work for it.

Fortunately enough, Harry seems to be thinking the same thing. He downs his drink in one go, setting the glass down on the bar top and says, “I’ll be in the bathroom.”

Liam wants to protest, wants to ask Harry if this is some kind of sick joke, but Harry’s giving him this look, with half lidded eyes and a coy little smile. A look that’s telling Liam he should be in the bathroom too.

Fucking finally, Liam thinks. He turns back towards the bar, draining his glass quickly. He has to take a deep breath, because it’s been a while since his dick has seen anything besides his own hand. Which, in Liam’s defense, he never said that he was particularly good at pulling, just that he likes to try.

>>>>

It’s an honest to god miracle that there’s not a line outside the bathroom. There’s people standing in the hall, but after a few ‘are you waiting in line?’ Liam finds himself standing outside of the door. He takes one deep breath, tells himself that this is fine. Harry doesn’t know him. He doesn’t know Harry. It’ll be a one-night thing and Liam can go home after this and do his lit work like he told Louis he would.

With his little pep talk in mind, Liam pushes the door open and is immediately pulled into the bathroom, Harry’s grip firm around the collar of his shirt. He’s slammed back into the door with a huff before Harry’s mouth is on his.

Harry’s mouth is sinful, licking into Liam’s mouth, tongue lapping at Liam’s like this is what he lives for. It’s hot and wet, and Liam can taste the rum on Harry’s tongue, the gum he must have been chewing before that too, the mint lingering there.

Liam grabs at Harry’s hair, pulling at it and forcing a moan out of Harry, the other boy’s mouth dropping open.

“Knew you’d be good at this,” Harry says, pressing open-mouthed kisses along Liam’s jaw. There’s a faint click, the sound of the door locking before Harry’s hands are back on him, slipping under his white tank and feeling every inch of Liam’s skin that he has access to. “God, I saw you across the club and I knew, fuck. Knew I wanted to spend the night with you. Fuck, I can’t wait, though.”

He’s a talker, Liam thinks, pulling Harry in closer, slotting their mouths back together. Liam let’s his own hands wander across Harry’s skin. He thinks that, if he had to describe Harry, he’d call him a walking contradiction, because just when Liam thinks he’s felt every smooth curve of Harry’s body, he finds a sharp plane, an angle that shouldn’t be there. Like at his hips, the sides are soft, malleable under Liam’s grip, the right kind of hips for holding onto as you’re fucking into someone. But then, if Liam brings his hands in just a little bit more, he reaches the sharp angle of the boy jutting out, forming a perfect v down to his cock.

“Touch me,” Harry says, tongue licking at Liam’s lip. “God, please.”

Liam follows the line Harry’s hips have drawn for him, right down to the button of his jeans. Harry gasps when Liam undoes his pants, dipping his hand inside of his boxers and wrapping his fingers around Harry’s cock. He’s wet, so fucking wet from leaking pre-come. Just from kissing. Harry’s hard and wet for Liam, from nothing more than the flicks of his tongue and the feeling of his hands on his skin.

The thought forces a moan out of Liam, one that’s ripped right from his chest as he works Harry’s cock, focusing on the head. Focusing on smearing the pre-come around until Liam’s hand is slicked up enough to ease the burning friction as Harry fucks into his hand, hips rocking up frantically, like Harry has been waiting for this as long as Liam has.

“Fuck, so good,” Harry says, babbling nonsense into Liam’s skin.

When Harry comes it’s with a jerk of his hips, his entire body sagging against Liam’s as he groans, breathing harshly against Liam’s neck.

“Holy shit,” Harry says, laughing lightly into Liam’s neck. “Mm, that was nice.” He pulls away so that he can look at Liam, grinning. “Think you tired me out.”

Liam whines, a low pitch noise that he doesn’t even mean to let slip as he presses his hips against Harry’s. He’s hard and he needs—god, he doesn’t even care at this point, he just needs Harry to do something. Please.

“Harry, fuck. Come on,” Liam says, grinding down against Harry’s sensitive cock. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

And when Harry sinks down to his knees, Liam lets his head fall back, slamming against the door with a force that should hurt, but the only thing Liam can focus is on is the feeling of Harry’s tongue on his cock.

>>>>

It’s Sunday when Louis gets home, giving Liam the dorm to himself for all of Saturday. It’s enough time to sleep off the sex, to sleep off the sated haze Harry put him in. It also gave him enough time to get some of his work done, work that he really is behind on.

So when Louis comes bounding into the dorm, dropping down on Liam’s bed with a grin on his face, Liam doesn’t feel too bad about lying to him. Only a little bit.

“Liam, you missed a good one. I’m telling you,” Louis says, toeing off his shoes and letting them fall to the floor. “Friday night, we went out with Niall, and it was fucking ace. We got lost, couldn’t figure out how to get home and spent the night in a twenty-four hour diner. It was brilliant.”

“Wish I could have been there,” Liam says, and he really does mean it. He would love to be out with his friends, making those memories that’ll stay with them for life, but sometimes you have to do other things.

“Wish you could have been with me and Zayn last night,” Louis says, winking.

“Oh, god,” Liam groans, flipping his textbook closed. Honestly. “Why do you always have to do that?”

“I like the way you turn red,” Louis tells him, grinning wickedly. “It’s cute.”

Liam shakes his head. “You really are the worst sometimes, you know that?”

Louis shrugs, rolling onto his back. “Did you get any of your work done? Or did you just kick me out of my own dorm room so that you could watch Marvel movies by yourself again?”

It was one time. One time. Liam hasn’t done that since the one time, when he just wanted some alone time. He had been friends with Louis for a year, and it was their first one living together, honestly. Honestly. It’s not a big deal.

Liam’s not going to dignify that with an answer, but he does say, “Yeah, I got most of my reading done, anyway. Now I’m just working on an outline for a paper due in two weeks.”

Louis makes a noise, an unimpressed sound as he rolls over to look at Liam. “Well, do you think you have enough time in your busy schedule to head down to the park, kick the ball around for a bit?”

Liam sighs, his body sagging in relief at the idea of not having to read anything else for another couple hours. “That I always have time for,” he says, reaching out to bump his fist against Louis’ when he holds it out for him.

>>>>

The week passes fairly quickly, Liam immersing himself in his schoolwork and brushing up on soccer with Louis before their season starts. So when Friday rolls around, Liam’s run down, his muscles taut from the week’s stress and he knows there’s really only one way he can loosen up. At least one way that sounds appealing to him, especially after last week.

The bathroom with Harry was a tease, a taste of what he wanted and what he could have had. It was like a build up, setting him up and helping ease the pace into tonight.

The only problem is Louis. Or well, it’s not Louis, per se. The problem is figuring out how to talk his way out of spending the night with him in their dorm room, drinking cheap beer and watching movies until they pass out. It really does sound like a good time; Liam could use a night of just lying in bed. But… there’s other things Liam wants to do with his night.

“Louis, don’t give me that face,” Liam says, sighing as he laces up his boots. Louis really is cutting through his armor; making him want to kick his boots off and curl up in bed between him and Zayn, content to pretend that he’s not ruining their night together.

Louis sniffs, rubbing at his nose and shrugging his shoulders. The pout is still there on his face, his shoulders hunched down. He really is trying his hardest to make his blue eyes glisten with fake tears.

“I just don’t understand what could be better than a night in with your two favorite people,” Louis says, shrugging once more.

“It has nothing to do with that. Sophia called and I told her that we’d see a movie, well before I knew that you and Zayn wanted to include me on date night,” Liam lies, standing up to pull on his shirt. “Besides, I thought I’d give you two your space.”

“You’re always welcome with us, Li,” Zayn says, knowing that sometimes Liam does feel a bit like a third wheel, constantly interfering on their time together. There’s been countless times Liam’s walked into his dorm, effectively putting a cease to whatever sex Zayn and Louis were hoping to have. And there have been times Louis has crawled across Zayn to cuddle with Liam instead, sensing when Liam has had a bad week.

But tonight’s not about feeling like a third wheel. It’s about wanting to get laid or…something like that. And that’s a concept that two monogamous, happy boyfriends of two years wouldn’t understand. Plus, Liam happens to know that they had sex just Wednesday night, in Zayn’s art studio.

“I know, but it’s Friday,” Liam says, shrugging his shoulders. “I thought that you’d spend tonight together and then I’ll spend tomorrow with you. We’ve got practice, so it’s not like you’re going to miss me.”

“I’ll miss you very much, actually,” Louis says.

“Yeah, but you’ll have Zayn here to make it better.”

“That’s true,” Louis agrees. “Zayn really is better company than you are.”

“And a better lay.”

“Well, that’s not fair. I haven’t had the chance to test you yet, Liam. Maybe that’s what we’ll do tomorrow night.”

Liam nods, slipping on his leather jacket. “Yeah, what do you think, Zayn?”

“As long as I get to watch, don’t really care much,” Zayn says, tapping away at his phone. He’s lying, obviously. Zayn’s generous with Liam and Louis’ friendship, understanding of Louis’ need to touch and be touched by everyone. But he’d be far from understanding if Louis ever crossed that physical boundary with someone else.

“Leather jacket?” Louis points out, raising an eyebrow. “To see Sophia? Are you sure that you’re not trying to rekindle the old flame, Liam? Because I’m going to be very disappointed in you if you’re blowing me off to get back together with your ex.”

“No. It’s definitely over,” Liam says, shoving his wallet in his pocket and avoiding eye contact with Louis. It really is over, even if they do talk on occasion. She’s not exactly what Liam’s into anymore, no matter how amazing of a person she is. So yeah, definitely not getting back together. The only reason Liam chooses Sophia as his excuse is because she’s the only person that Louis wouldn’t try and get into contact with.

And with a wave over his shoulder, Liam’s gone, rushing out before Louis can launch into another discussion about how sometimes things are better left over between two people, a lecture Liam’s heard more times than he can count.

>>>>

Liam ends up going to the same place as last week, already have success and hoping he can have more. It’s packed, even more so than last week and Liam has to push through the crowd to get to the bar. There’s no way he can properly see if anyone he knows is here, so Liam runs on blind faith that he’ll be okay.

Liam’s on his second rum and coke when someone approaches him, a boy slipping in behind him, hands on his waist. Liam turns, grinning when he sees how cute the boy is. He’s got deep brown eyes, buzzed hair and a crooked grin. His arms are big, muscles straining against his shirt. And he stands nearly four inches taller than Liam, making him feel small, which isn’t something he feels often.

God, Liam hopes this works out.

“Hey,” Liam says, leaning back against the bar, the other guy’s arms resting against the counter, trapping Liam in place.

“Tyler,” the boys says, his lip curling upwards. Liam can smell the alcohol on his breath, knows that he’s well ahead of Liam when it comes to getting drunk. “What’s your name?”

“James.”

Tyler nods, licking his lips. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before,” he says, moving his hand so that it’s holding onto Liam’s arm, grip tighter than strictly necessary. “You’re really hot, James. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Yeah a few times,” Liam says, trying to shrug out of this guy’s grip. He’s too drunk, Liam can hear it in the exaggerated way that he’s talking, the way his words curl together, making it hard for Liam to fully understand what he’s saying. His hands are roaming Liam’s body and he’s beginning to get uncomfortable. “Do you mind not touching me?”

Tyler grins, grip moving from Liam’s bicep to his wrist, holding on a little tighter. If that’s even possible. It’s starting to hurt, his other hand holding onto the side of Liam’s neck, keeping his gaze.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Tyler asks, ignoring Liam’s request.

“No. Not really,” Liam answers, still trying to shake out of the guy’s grip. But Tyler doesn’t seem concerned, doesn’t seem to care that Liam’s trying his hardest to get away from him, doesn’t want his fucking hands on him.

“Aw, come on,” Tyler drones out, pouting absurdly, like he actually fucking cares about Liam’s no. Liam knows that all he needs is a good shove, something with some force behind it to get this guy off of him. He’s drunk enough that he’d stumble backwards and Liam could get away.

“You okay, babe?” Someone is saying, sliding into the space next to Liam, their hands working to loosen Tyler’s grip on his arm.

Liam turns to him, frowning in confusion for a moment before realization hits him. It’s Harry, the boy from last week. He’s looking at Liam, an eyebrow raised as his gaze flicks to Tyler and back, like he really cares about if Liam is okay or not.

“You were gone a while, was getting worried about you,” Harry says, finally pulling Tyler off of him.

“Yeah, I was just about to head back,” he says, breathing out a sigh of relief when Tyler wanders off down the bar, stopping in front of a redhead. “Fuck, thank you,” Liam breathes out, taking a large swallow of his drink.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Harry says, shrugging. “He was being a prick to someone else earlier. It’s only a matter of time before he’s thrown out. But you sure you’re good?”

“Yeah, just wanted him to back off, ya know?” Liam tells him, taking another drink. There’s an ache in his wrist, but Liam’s fine. It’s not the first drunk to make unwanted advances on him. And he knows that he could have handled himself, if he really tried. Liam’s just glad he’s gone. And a part of him, a small part, is happy to see Harry, remembering the magical heat of the other boys mouth.

“So what brings you back here, James?” Harry asks, leaning against the counter, one of his hands settling on Liam’s hip, thumb stroking under Liam’s shirt. He already knows the answer to that question, Liam’s almost positive that they’re both looking for the same thing, which makes his answer less flirtatious and more factual.

“Why does anyone come here?” Liam asks, watching as Harry nods, the corner of his lip lifted up into a smirk as he stares at Liam, never breaking eye contact. Confirming Liam’s suspicions on why Harry’s here.

“What do you say we skip the part where we get drunk and just go back to your place?”

And this is what Liam likes about Harry; he skips the small talk and the unnecessary bits of conversation. He’s not ashamed to admit that he’s after one thing and one thing only, and Liam fucking loves it.

“No can do,” Liam says, watching as Harry raises an eyebrow at him. “My roommate and his boyfriend are using my place for the night.”

“Ah,” Harry says, nodding. “Well, I have a place.”

Liam grins, setting his drink down before he follows Harry out of the bar, his hand clasped with Harry’s.

>>>>

Harry’s apartment is nice, on the third floor of a brownstone halfway between the bar and Liam’s dorm. Which is good, it means he’s already cut his travel time home in half, making cab fare a little cheaper.

“You want anything?” Harry asks, tossing his keys down on the table behind the door.

“Nah, I’m good,” Liam says, still looking around the apartment. There’s a thick white couch in the middle of the room, another one on the wall opposite. The walls are covered in artwork, covering the white surface almost completely. It’s nice. Way too nice for someone Harry’s age, which makes Liam wonder how he affords it. “This is a nice place.”

“Thanks,” Harry says from behind Liam, where he’s toeing out of his boots. Liam follows suit, taking his time unlacing his. He wishes he had a bit more to drink, just a bit. Enough to make his body feel looser, to take away some of his inhibitions and just help him relax.

“You sure you don’t want anything? I could get you something to drink?” Harry asks, hooking his thumb over his shoulder to point in the direction of the kitchen.

“Not really why I came here,” Liam says, shrugging, watching as Harry grins.

“In that case,” Harry says, grabbing Liam’s hand and dragging him through the apartment. They move through the living room, past the kitchen and down a hall before Harry is pushing open a bedroom door. The light is off, but the light seeping through the blinds illuminates the room enough that Liam can still see, can still make out the faint outline of Harry as he shrugs his shirt off.

“We gonna do this properly this time, then?” Harry asks, stepping into Liam’s space and kissing him, hands moving to cup Liam’s jaw. It’s not as fast, not as desperate as the kiss they shared in the bathroom last week, Harry’s taking his time with it, using this opportunity to work Liam up.

Liam drags his hands through Harry’s hair, messing it up as Harry drags his tongue across the roof of Liam’s mouth, groaning deeply when Liam tugs at the strands on his head.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” Harry says, pulling away to tug off Liam’s shirt. “God, wanted to do it in the bathroom last week.”

Liam’s cock jerks in interest as he steps out of his jeans, watching as Harry does the same. Harry trips, nearly falling on his face in his rush to get naked. Liam laughs, shaking his head.

“Not very good on your feet, are you?” Liam teases, eyeing Harry. He wishes the lights were on, he wants to see Harry’s dick fully. He wants to know how pink the tip is, if he’s got a thick vein running up the side like Liam hopes he does.

“I make up for it in other ways,” Harry says, backing Liam up until he drops down on the bed, ass on the very edge. “Think I could suck you again?”

Harry doesn’t wait for an answer, just drops down to his knees, spreading Liam’s thighs open and wrapping his lips around the head of Liam’s cock, tongue lapping at his slit.

It’s good, more than good. Liam can feel every breath, every contraction in Harry’s throat when Liam’s cock hits the back of it, each movement forcing a groan out of Liam, one that’s pulled from his chest, his stomach twisting with it. And as Harry continues to suck him off, Liam hears him rummaging around through the drawer blindly, pulling out a bottle of lube and uncapping it.

Liam gasps in surprise when Harry’s fingers ghost his hole before pushing inside, working him open while Harry’s tongue works his cock.

One finger becomes two, and then three, until Liam is withering on the bed, begging Harry to please. Please. He doesn’t even know what, he just—please.

“Scoot up on the bed,” Harry instructs, voice rough. Liam follows his instructions, moving quickly, spreading his legs open wide, watching as Harry pulls a condom out, ripping open the package then rolling it onto his cock. “You sure you want this?” Harry asks, scooting up on the bed so he’s resting between Liam’s legs, cock pressing against his entrance.

“Fuck, Harry. Come on.”

Harry grins, leaning down over Liam, his mouth against Liam’s ear. “Tell me that you want it, James. You have to tell me that you want my cock.”

Liam groans. “Fuck, alright. Yeah. Want your cock. Harry, please, want your cock.”

With that, Harry pushes inside of Liam slowly. Liam can feel himself being opened up, can feel the wet slide of Harry’s cock inside of him and he moans, wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist and pushing him in further, helping him bottom out completely.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Harry tells him, pulling out before snapping his hips forward again, fucking into Liam frantically. “You feel so fucking good, so good.”

Liam tries to talk, but his words come out more like a cry, Harry’s cock rubbing against just the right spot, making his toes curl.

“Tell me how good it is, James. Fuck, talk to me,” Harry says and Liam tries not to wince at the usage of his fake name. He’s used to it, having been called it before, but that doesn’t mean it gets easier, having the person on top of him moaning someone else’s name in his ear.

“So good,” Liam tells him, because it’s true. Harry is so fucking good at this, made for fucking almost. God, so fucking good. There’s a familiar coiling in Liam’s stomach, his body tensing up as Harry’s hips work into him faster and harder, almost brutally trying to get Liam to come without touching himself. “Gonna—gonna—oh fuck,” Liam groans out, his orgasm hitting him like a tidal wave against the shove, ripping right through as thick, hot spurts of his come spill out on his stomach.

Harry talks him through it, murmuring about how fucking pretty Liam is, how good he is at taking cock, until he feels Harry go rigid, the movement of his hips faltering as he comes, moaning long and deep in Liam’s ear, fingers digging bruises into Liam’s hips.

>>>>

Liam pushes open his door as quietly as he can, wincing when the hinge creaks. It’s quarter after nine, and the last thing he wants is for Louis to wake up and see Liam sneaking back in after the spending the night at Harry’s place. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, he had every intention of getting dressed and slipping out while Harry slept, but something about the other boy’s koala grip on him, his welcoming body heat, and the soft mattress beneath his worn out body had him drifting off, only to startle away a little after eight.

Zayn and Louis are both sound asleep, Zayn pressed against the window with his arms around Louis’ waist, holding him close as Louis takes up most of the bed, his mouth hanging open, holding onto Zayn’s hands around his body.

Liam says a silent thank you to whoever made this possible as he tiptoes across the room, grabbing a clean set of clothes out of his closet before he heads towards the bathroom, wanting to wash away all evidence of the night before.

The water is hot, beating down against Liam’s back as he rubs the soap into his skin. His muscles are loose, bones not nearly as heavy as they felt the night before. Liam’s not sure what he’s doing with himself, but he feels good. He feels relaxed for the first time in weeks, Harry giving him exactly what he wanted.

Liam only feels slightly bad for not leaving his number.

When Liam steps out of the bathroom his luck is gone, because Louis is awake, glaring at him as he slams around the kitchen, making tea.

“Did you stay over at Sophia’s?” Louis asks, his voice still thick with sleep. He’s never awake this early.

“I fell asleep during the movie,” he lies, shrugging as he tosses his dirty clothes into the hamper next to his desk. Louis raises an eyebrow, folding his arms over his chest.

“I’m sure you did,” Louis mumbles under his breath, shaking his head. Liam wants to ask what that means, why Louis wouldn’t believe him, but then again, Liam is the one lying, so instead he shrugs his shoulders, moving to drop down on his bed, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep before practice.

>>>>

Practice is a disaster, as it always seems to be sometimes, especially when Niall schedules it on the weekend. Everyone was out the night before, except for Liam and Louis, the only two not sporting a hangover. Even Niall’s hung over, lying on the grass and moaning about how someone needs to shut the sun off for him, at least until whatever pill Ed gave him this morning kicks in.

“This is why we always lose,” Niall whines, rolling over to press his face into Liam’s thigh. “This is why we’re always in the bottom of our division.”

“You’re the coach,” Louis says, kicking Niall in the ankle before he goes back to dribbling the ball between the cones he set out, probably figuring that he might as well give himself his own practice, if the team is too hung over to do it themselves. “Make us practice, Niall,” Louis says, purposely kicking the ball at Niall.

Niall groans, mumbling something that sounds like fuck off into Liam’s leg. “Give me a minute,” Niall says, rolling onto his back. “I think I’m dead.”

“You’re not dead,” Liam says, rolling his eyes, standing up so he and Louis can practice passing. It’s neither of their weak spots, not really, but there’s not much else for them to do when the other nine players, coach included is lying in the grass, doing absolutely nothing.

“I’m definitely dead. Fuck. Don’t ever take shots from Calvin, they’re fucking tainted,” Niall tells them, sitting up. “I think he put something lethal in them. I don’t even think that alcohol is legal here.”

“God, stop whining,” Louis mutters, shaking his head.

“Oi, go fuck yourself,” Niall says, standing up, brushing loose grass off his butt. “It’s all your fault, shouldn’t introduce me to your illegal alcohol smuggling friends.”

“Alright, coach. Whatever you say.”

Niall glares at him, turning his nose up as he turns to face the lazy pile of boys on the field. “Lazy shits, get up and start practicing,” Niall yells, grabbing one of the balls and throwing it at the pile, hitting Andy in his head as he stands. “Practice penalty shots. You all suck at them.”

“Wow, how uplifting for the team,” Liam laughs, shaking his head.

Niall shrugs, digging into his mesh bag so he can start throwing balls out onto the field, aiming for everyone that’s not standing up fast enough. “Speaking of uplifting the team, I want to find another player. We’ve only ever had bear minimum. I want a relief this time around, maybe then you lazy shits will play better.”

“Alright, so put out a flyer or something, I’m sure someone wants to play in their spare time,” Liam suggests, catching the ball that Niall throws at him.

“What about Zayn?” Niall asks, turning to Louis. “He comes to every practice, why doesn’t he play?”

Liam turns towards the stands where Zayn is sat, sketchbook across his lap, waiting for them to finish so he and Louis can go get lunch together. Adorable saps.

“Zayn’s my trophy wife,” Louis says, sighing. “He can’t play.”

“Does he know that you call him that?” Niall asks, pulling off his sweatshirt and tossing it onto the grass.

Louis scoffs, shaking his head. “Of course, everyone knows he’s my better half.”

“That’s true,” Liam agrees, nodding. “You’d be shit without him.”

“Exactly,” Louis says, pointing to Liam. “See, he understands.”

“Trophy wife or not, he could still play,” Niall mutters, followed by a, “Oh fuck. Can someone teach Ant how to dribble the damn ball? Honestly, this team is a disaster, I can’t fucking wait to watch this fall apart.” He’s smiling widely, winking at both Liam and Louis before he jogs off, finally starting practice.

>>>>

Liam’s lying in his bed, phone held above his head as he types back a message to Sophia. It’s hours later in the day, he’s clean from his second shower after practice, his legs tired and chest still burning from the sprints that Niall had them run.

Louis is on the other side of the room, sitting on his bed with his laptop on his lap, tapping away at the keys.

It’s nice in moments like this, just the two of them content in the other’s presence, not needing to fill in the silent gaps. Liam suspects that it’s probably a perk of rooming together for so long, because Louis isn’t quiet with anyone, doesn't know how to settle enough to just be. Besides with Zayn, which is why they’re so perfect for each other, Louis pulling out the outgoing undertones of Zayn’s personality, the wild streak that’s always been there, lying dormant, waiting to be unleashed. And while Louis does that, Zayn reins Louis in, pulling out his softer side and calming the constant buzz in Louis’ veins.

Liam sighs, setting his phone down and rubbing at his face. He’s been thinking about this too much, about the two of them together, and now Liam wants to go. Wants to get away. He feels a pull in his gut, something telling him to go out tonight, to go back to the club and actually be there, to absorb the atmosphere and the surroundings, letting go. If he pulls then he pulls, if not then…

“Do you want to go out tonight?” Louis asks, closing his laptop and looking up at Liam.

Liam groans internally, licking his lips outwardly. “I’d love to, Lou, but I think I’m going to go see Sophia again.”

“You just went out with her last night,” Louis says, fixing him with a look. He’s not impressed and not amused, definitely not pleased with Liam for blowing him off so much. And Liam doesn’t blame him; he really is being a shitty friend from all kinds of angles.

“You know what,” Liam says, grabbing his phone so he can pretend to send Sophia a message. “I’m gonna tell her that we need to reschedule, choose a date for later in the week.”

Louis grins at him, jumping off his bed, rushing over to press a kiss to Liam’s cheek. “You’re the best, Li. I’ll call Zayn and Niall, and we’ll make it a group thing.”

“That sounds fun,” Liam says, and he means it. He can’t think of anything better than a night out with his boys.

>>>>

They go to a bar that’s just off campus, one that’s dingy and dank, but sells cheap beer, making all of them forget their less than stellar surroundings. Plus Niall thinks it’s haunted, claims to hear ghosts talking to him in the bathroom every time he’s drunk. No one has the heart to tell him that it’s the Korean couple that lives above the bar, the older couple having to shout to hear each other.

It’s nice, though. It feels like a part of himself sometimes, the memories they’ve made since they’ve been in college. Louis and Zayn hooking up for the first time in the back corner, the place Liam first kissed Sophia, the place they met Niall, and every other drunken memory they have from sneaking in with fakes and thinking they were bigger than what they were.

Liam loves it here and he’s happy he decided to join his friends for the night.

They’re still waiting on Zayn, though. The boy taking longer than necessary to get to the bar, making Louis’ leg shake, growing antsy as the times ticks by slowly.

“Relax, he’s coming,” Liam says, patting Louis on the shoulder before he takes a swig of his beer, frowning at how warm it is. Whatever. It’s cheap; he’ll get over it.

“I know he will be, he’s right there,” Louis says, smiling widely as he waves, trying to catch Zayn’s eye.

“Whose that with him?” Niall asks and Liam turns to look but all he can see is Zayn, the boy nodding in their direction, letting them know he sees them.

“It’s his roommate,” Louis says. “Scoot over, make room.”

Liam rolls his eyes, scooting down a chair so that Zayn can take the spot next to Louis.

“He’s got a roommate?” Niall asks, frowning.

“Yeah, but he usually only hangs out with grad students. I mean, it’s a smart plan all things considered. I think there’s like a rule that all graduate students have to TA, so like, it probably helps him with his grades or something. I don’t know. I’ve met him a few times but Zayn swears he’s great,” Louis explains.

Liam nods, taking another drink from his glass, turning in time to see Zayn. He smiles at him but his smile falls immediately when Harry steps out from behind him, standing there smirking at Liam. He remembers him, obviously. They just fucked last night.

Fuck.

Liam’s screwed.

“Look who you finally dragged out of the house,” Louis says, already wrapping himself around Zayn.

“Yeah, told him that he could use some time with people his own age,” Zayn says, kissing Louis’ temple and stealing a bit of his beer. “Ah, shit. Harry that’s Niall, and this is-“

“Yeah, we've-“

“Liam,” Zayn finishes and Harry frowns, raising an eyebrow.

“Liam,” he repeats, licking his lips. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah,” Liam croaks out, clearing his throat. He can feel the shake of his hands and he knows that Louis will see it immediately if he tries to drain his glass, so he sits on them, swallowing thickly. “I’ve, uh—Yeah. Me too. I’ve heard a lot.”

“Yeah, what have you heard?” Harry asks, resting his elbow on the table, something in his eyes challenging Liam. “I mean, I’d love to know what Zayn says about me behind my back.”

“He doesn’t say shit,” Niall pipes in, wiping away his beer mustache. “Zayn’s never talked about ya, don’t let Payne there fool ya.”

“Payne?” Harry repeats, still looking at Liam.

“My last name. That’s my last name.”

“Huh,” Harry mutters, tapping his fingers against the wooden table. “I think I’m going to go get something to drink, anyone need anything?”

Liam tunes out everyone’s replies, the pounding of his heart is far too loud for him to hear anything other than the voice in his head screaming, screaming because this wasn’t supposed to happen. Liam’s always been careful. He’s always made sure that this life, the one he lives with his best friends never intersects with the life he lives on Friday nights, going out to the club and looking for a decent fuck. But it’s happening, it’s happening and Liam can’t do anything to stop it. All he can do is finish his beer and pray that Harry doesn’t say anything. He needs Harry to keep this between them, more than he’s ever needed anything else in his life.

>>>>

Harry doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even mention it. But that doesn’t stop Liam from freaking out.

It’s the next day, Sunday, and Liam’s sitting in the library, pen tapping wildly on the edge of his textbook, his nervous, anxious energy coursing through him like wildfire, spreading at an alarming rate.

He can’t even focus on his studies, can barely read about marine biology because every word twists, morphing into a new word and then another and another until Liam’s text book is yelling at him that it’s over, he’s been caught. Harry’s going to out him, his friends are going to abandon him and everything that Liam worked hard for is going to be lost. He’s never going to get his life back, and it’s all thanks to Harry. Or maybe Zayn since he hid him, never even bothered to show Liam a fucking picture.

No. Fuck.

This is all Liam’s fault, all of it.

Liam knows that he’s never going to be able to calm down until he talks to Harry, until he lets him know what’s happening, why it’s happening. Why he lied and why he needs Harry to understand, why he needs Harry to not tell anyone about this.

Liam pulls out his phone, typing out a message to Louis that reads, _heeyyyy where r u_

He waits, dropping his pen so that his fingers can drum against the table’s surface. There’s a girl in the row across from him staring, trying to tell him with her eyes to knock it the fuck off. Liam wants to scream at her, wants to know if she understands what the hell is going on right now. But he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t, instead he reads Louis’ reply.

_With Zayn._

_Something happen with Soph?_

Liam breathes out a sigh of relief, closing his textbook quickly, shoving everything into his backpack.

_No jst wnted to see if I left book at home its ok haev funnnnnn_

>>>>

Liam’s out of breath by the time he reaches Zayn and Harry’s dorm. He raced across campus, sprinting and moving faster than he thinks he’s ever moved in his life. If Niall had seen him, he’d have screamed at Liam, telling him off for not using that power in their games.

Liam chooses to take the elevator up, allowing himself the few short minutes to breathe, to think about what it is he’s doing. He almost wishes that he had asked for Harry’s number. Almost. He’s not even sure if he wants Harry to be home. What is he supposed to say?

_Sorry I lied. I don’t want my gay roommate to know that sometimes I like sleeping with boys too. Could you please not tell anyone? Are you okay with being my secret?_

Yeah, Liam doesn’t think so.

Liam navigates the maze of a hallway until he finds Zayn and Harry’s door, tucked away in the very back corner, furthest from the RA. He takes a deep breath before he knocks, praying that Louis and Zayn aren’t inside, praying that Harry is, praying that he’ll figure out what to do in the next two seconds.

It’s Harry who opens the door, thank god, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a loose fitting shirt, one that Liam thinks is actually Zayn’s. He’s not sure.

“Zayn’s not here,” Harry says, resting against the door. “Neither is Louis.”

“I know,” Liam says, suddenly wishing that he had written Harry a letter. He could just pass it over and flee, rushing back to his dorm where he hopes Harry will never find him. Unfortunately that’s not something he can do, or should do.

“Okay,” Harry mumbles, breathing out deeply. “So what do you want?”

This is it. Liam can do this. “My friends don’t know that I’m gay,” Liam admits, watching as Harry nods, brows furrowed in concentration. “They don’t. Um. Well, technically you’re the only person in my life that has access to that information.”

“So you came here to make sure that I wouldn’t say anything? Because I won’t,” Harry says and Liam can feel himself physically deflate in relief. His body almost sagging noticeably, the knot in his chest dissipating ever so slightly with this information because that’s Harry putting out the fire of Liam’s worry. “Zayn knows that I hooked up with someone but I thought you were a random, so that’s what he knows. I won’t tell him that it was you.”

“Thank you,” Liam breathes out, so incredibly grateful.

Harry shrugs, like it’s really not a big deal to him. He pulls the door open wider, silently inviting Liam into his dorm room. It feels different now, knowing that the bed on the other side of the room belongs to Harry, not just some enigma, someone that he’s only ever heard talked about before, never seen until now. It changes things; the black and white photographs on the wall belong to Harry, little snapshots into his soul. The thick white duvet, the plaid sheets, the desk covered in books with titles that Liam’s never heard of, they’re all little bits of Harry. One half of this room is him and it feels weird knowing that he’s been in here before.

“Can I ask you a question?” Liam turns, nodding. “Why did you lie to them, to your friends?”

“I don’t know,” Liam admits, shrugging. “I don’t know what would happen if I came out. I’m not—I’m not ready to find out.”

“I wasn’t talking about that,” Harry says, shaking his head. “I was talking about that night in the bar, why did you lie to them about not knowing me?”

Liam shrugs. “I don’t know very many people. And Louis would have asked a million questions, he wouldn’t have been able to handle knowing that we knew each other and he had no idea.”

“And James? Where did that come from?”

Fuck, Liam thinks, rubbing his temple. He drops down on Zayn’s bed, wishing that he didn’t feel so badly for lying about his name. It’s his name, he doesn’t owe it to anyone, but here he is. Here he is wishing that he could have done things differently, giving Harry the right name. It would have made things easier, Liam thinks. He makes a note of cutting the James shit, vowing to never use it again from this moment on.

“It’s my middle name.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head as he takes a seat on his own bed, sitting directly opposite of Liam. “You’re so scared of this that you won’t even give out your real name?”

“James is still my name, just not my… It’s not my first name but it’s my name. It’s there, my mother uses it enough,” Liam mutters, sighing.

“But you still lie to people. From the word go you lie to people. Isn’t that exhausting?”

“You lied too,” Liam says, trying to keep his voice from shouting. He doesn’t want to get loud. He didn’t come here to fight.

“When did I lie?” Harry asks, looking offended and annoyed. “My friends know who I like to sleep with. And I didn’t tell you my name was Edward, did I?”

“No,” Liam agrees because that parts true. He can’t argue with that. “When we left, when we,” Liam waves his hand around, hoping Harry catches his drift, “you said you were taking me back to your place. It might have been dark, but I’m fairly positive that we did not have sex in that bed.”

Harry shakes his head, laughing. “No, I said that I had _a_ place. I didn’t say it was _my_ place.”

“Whose place was it then?”

“A friend’s. I thought Zayn was here with Louis.”

“No, they were back at mine. I got the third degree when I went home that morning,” Liam admits, lying back on Zayn’s bed. He can’t see Harry and he’s not trying to shut him out, he just feels bone tired, almost a full day of worrying wearing him down completely. Liam needs a minute to just be, to breathe, to rest, to take in the fact that his life isn’t crumbling underneath his feet.

There’s been a bump in the road but he’ll be fine, he thinks. Everything will be fine.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Liam,” Harry tells him once more and Liam breathes out, nodding.

>>>>

Niall’s angry, shouting a string of colorful, creative curses at them as they run through a practice game, the team divided in half, practicing. Liam doesn’t know why they keep voting him as captain; he’s brutal when he’s stressed. It doesn’t help that no one is taking things seriously, or well, according to Niall.

The thing about their team is that everyone signed up for fun, wanting to create a team because they all love the sport, because they’re all friends and it’d give them something to do when school is becomes too much for them. Niall knows that, that’s why he’s here, but Niall is competitive. Niall wants to win. Niall wants to be able to brag about the team’s achievements.

Liam almost feels bad for him. Almost. It’s mostly amusing watching Niall as he gets red in the face, shouting about how no one knows how to handle any balls. Getting even redder when Louis assures him that he can, in fact, handle his balls. He could handle everyone else’s, if he wanted to. If Zayn wasn’t on the sidelines, more like.

Liam glances over and sees Zayn shaking his head, no doubt rolling his eyes as he listens to his boyfriend. Sitting beside him is Harry, hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans watching. Liam has felt his eyes on him the whole time he’s been out on the field, green eyes tracking Liam’s every movement.

It’s weird, having him here, but Liam tries not to focus on him. He tries not to pay attention, even though he can feel Harry’s eyes on him as he runs across the field, passing the ball to Louis, to Stan, to Andy before he kicks it into the goal, the ball soaring straight passed Calvin’s outstretched arms.

It’s an intense practice, with Liam’s side winning by one point.

“Did you see me score the winning goal?” Louis asks Zayn, crawling on the bleachers, grinning, his hair matted against his forehead.

“Yeah, heard you being a pain in the ass too,” Zayn tells him, trying his hardest to look unimpressed.

“But I won the game,” Louis says.

“You also almost made Niall pop a blood vessel,” Liam adds, still avoiding Harry. “I’m surprised he didn’t make us run laps because of you.”

“Niall loves me.”

Liam laughs, shaking his head as he drinks from his water bottle, long heavy pulls, the water easing the ache in his throat and the burn in his lungs. He can see Harry looking at him, leaning against the side of the bleachers still, but Liam’s not ready to look at him, so he tosses the bottle into his bag, throwing in his hoodie and his ball.

When there’s nothing left for him to do, he finally looks at Harry, smiling.

“You did good out there,” Harry says, shuffling his feet. “Like really good.”

“Thanks. Surprised to see you here.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry says, shrugging. “Zayn said where he was going and I didn’t feel like working on my paper anymore, so here I am. Thought it might be good to get some fresh air.”

“Finally got you out of the house,” Louis says, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Just you wait, Styles, you’re going to be giving up all those old people friends for us.”

“Yeah we’ll see about that,” Harry says, the corner of his mouth turned upwards.

“Damn right we will,” Louis mutters, clapping Liam on the back as he passes him. “Li, I’m going home. Want to shower in my own bathroom for a change after this shit.”

Liam nods, waving towards him and Zayn as he gathers his things. Unlike Louis, he’s going to use the locker room, they’re really not supposed to use it but Niall’s sweet-talked the coaches of the school’s actual team into letting them.

The field is empty, just Harry and Liam, everyone else having immediately filtered out to go their own way. Liam doesn’t say anything, just heads towards the showers. He knows that Harry’s following him, can hear his feet shuffling to his left as they trek across the field.

“How long have you been playing for?” Harry asks, because obviously he’s not very good with silence. “You were amazing.”

“I’ve always liked it,” Liam tells him, still not looking at him, focusing on the locker rooms in the distance. “But Louis got me into it when we first met, he and Niall wanted to started a team, didn’t feel like having to deal with the school in order to play, so we went around and asked a bunch of our friends, and here we are.”

“I’m not very good at sports,” Harry says, stumbling over his feet, almost on cue. Liam jerks his arm out of reflex, wrapping his fingers around Harry’s bicep to stop him from falling. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to be good in order to play, you know. You just have to love it. Or hell, even enjoy it.”

“Niall seems like he’d only want good players. He seems like he really wants to win.”

Liam shakes his head. “Nah, Niall’s all talk. He’s not our best player by a long shot, and he just wants bragging rights. Last year we didn’t do that great in our league, but we had fun. But the school got a better place than us in their league, Niall just wants to do better than the school.”

“Our school’s team is shit.”

“That’s why he wants to do better,” Liam laughs, turning to smile at Harry. “Niall would let you on the team if you ever wanted to join, you know. Is that why you came to practice? Are you thinking about signing up?”

“No, not really,” Harry says, wetting his lips. “I was kind of interested in…you know…seeing if you fancied a fuck.” Blunt and straight to the point with a simple shrug of his shoulders when Liam falters.

Something twists in Liam’s gut, a heavy pull straight from his groin because he knows now why Harry’s here, why he came to practice and why he’s following Liam to the locker rooms.

The locker room is empty and Liam takes his time setting his bag down on the bench, grabbing the towel from inside of it. He does want to shower, wants to clean off the sweat and grass stains off his body, but he also wants this. Wants Harry. Wants whatever Harry is willing to give him in the moment.

“Are we going to talk about what’s happening right now?” Liam asks, clutching onto the towel like it’s his lifeline, staring up at Harry with wide eyes. He’s never—this is a major step, he thinks, having sex with someone that he actually knows, someone of the same sex. It’s—well, Liam’s never done this before. It crosses all the boundaries that he set for himself

Harry licks his lips, gently removing the towel from Liam’s hands. He tosses it over his shoulder, taking a step forward so that he’s closer to Liam, almost forcing Liam to back into the wall. “Well, we have this entire room to ourselves and I was thinking, you know, about this. When Zayn said he was coming down here, I thought about this.”

“This?”

“Well, not this exact moment, but about you.”

“What about me?” Liam asks, wetting his lips, Harry’s eyes tracking the movement.

“Liam, do I really have to spell it out for you?” Harry asks, rolling his eyes. “I want to have sex in this locker room. Like, you could fuck me against the lockers or I could fuck you in the shower. I don’t really care. Something. Anything.”

“Okay,” Liam says, nodding. “But not out here. Someone could see. The showers, um… They have curtains that go down to the floor, so like, no one would know. I’m not very comfortable with the thought of being seen. Not like, with you. You’re fine. You’re—you’re great. But like, I just don’t really want to be seen by anyone in this kind of situation.”

Harry grins, nodding as he takes Liam’s hand. He grabs his bag, lugging it towards the showers. He picks the one in the corner, furthest away from the sinks and the toilets.

“I don’t normally bring my bag over here,” Liam says, frowning, watching as Harry hangs it up on the hook outside the door.

“This is easier, trust me. One shower, one bag, two change of clothes. People aren’t that stupid, Liam.” He rolls his eyes, yanking the curtain back to start the water. “This way we can throw both of our clothes into the bag, if anyone comes in they won’t think anything of it, yeah?” He says, pulling his shirt off.

That’s actually—okay. Yeah. That’s a smart plan, Liam thinks, watching as Harry shoves his shirt into Liam’s bag. He takes his shoes off next, shoving his boots and socks into Liam’s bag.

“Liam, you have to get undressed. I mean, I could work around your clothes but you’ll have to explain why everything you own is sopping wet.”

“Right, sorry,” Liam mutters, brain kicking into action as he moves quickly to get undressed. He’s left standing in the open as Harry jumps into the shower, sighing as he steps under the spray of water. Liam has to try not to stare because… god, seeing Harry naked in the light is far greater than seeing him naked in the dark. Liam was a fool for not demanding the lights were on the last time they had sex. He should have. God, he should been smarter about this.

Harry’s cock is…nice. It’s long and thick, pink at the tip. He’s half hard already, stroking himself under the water as Liam fumbles around with his shorts, trying to remember how to function.

“Liam, can you please hurry up?” Harry groans, leaning against the back wall, cock in hand.

“I’m trying, stupid fucking shin guards,” Liam mutters, finally tugging them off. He shoves everything into his bag, taking a step inside the shower.

“Wait, get your soaps and stuff,” Harry says, letting go of his now fully hard cock. Liam’s own cock jolts in interest, a spark of pleasure going straight up his spine.

Liam does as he’s told, grabbing everything and setting it on the shower floor before he joins Harry, pulling the curtain closed. He makes sure there are no gaps, nothing that could allow anyone to peek inside. That’s not Liam’s thing, he doesn’t get off on almost being caught, not with anyone. Harry’s no different in that respect.

He kisses Harry when he’s sure that they’re good, pressing him against the shower wall. Everything about this feels different, the press of Harry’s cock against his hip, the drag of his tongue against Liam’s, and the feeling of Harry’s hair beneath his fingers. He’s not sure what it is exactly, whether it’s the sobering fact that he now knows who Harry is, that he’s about to have sex with a boy who knows the real him, not somebody named James with a drink in his hand.

Liam’s been waiting for this, waiting to have someone pinned beneath him, moaning his name in his ear, cursing his name under their breath. And he’s getting it finally.

“Want you to suck me off this time,” Harry says, pulling away. He thrusts his hips up against Liam dick, their cocks sliding together delightfully.

All Liam can do is nod as he drops to his knees, shower water crashing down around him.

He takes Harry in his hand, gripping him at his base and wasting no time in getting his tongue on him, licking up the side of his shaft slowly. He wishes that he could look up, but the shower water is making it hard, so he focuses on the noises that Harry is making, the tiny gasps of pleasure and the deep guttural moan that escapes his lips when Liam finally wraps his lips around Harry’s cock.

Liam takes him down as far as he can, before he feels the protest of his throat and then pulls back, pulling off completely to lick along the underside of his cock before he takes him in his mouth once more.

Harry doesn’t know how to keep still, his hips moving erratically, fucking into Liam’s mouth.

“So good,” Harry mutters, grabbing onto Liam’s hair. He pushes Liam down on his cock further, forcing him to take more. Liam tries to let his jaw go slack, to let Harry pound into his mouth in earnest, like he wants to. Like he needs to.

“Liam, what if we—fuck. What if you didn’t have to go out for this?” Harry asks, stilling his hips and letting go of Liam’s hair. “You go out every week hoping to find someone to fuck, yeah? But—oh fuck—what if you didn’t. What if you called me instead?”

Liam stops his movements, pulling off Harry, his grip still on Harry’s thighs, pinning him back against the wall. “Like on the regular? You and I?” Liam asks, watching Harry carefully. He doesn’t want to read into this wrong, doesn’t want to jump too quickly if he’s not picking this up correctly.

Harry nods. “It’s not a surprise that I’m attracted to you, Liam. And like, it could be fun, not having to work for it. Not having to go out of your way for your next lay. All you’d have to do is call me.”

Liam stares at Harry, eyes squinted against the spray of the water, because yeah, that’s definitely what he thought Harry was asking of him. And it’s not… Liam’s not surprised, is the thing. He feels like he should be, or like he should be concerned on why an attractive guy like Harry would want to hook up with just Liam instead of the army of people that are probably wishing for a night with him. Liam’s more than happy to give out a recommendation, write him a letter filled with raving reviews.And maybe Liam should specify that this doesn’t mean they’d be exclusive, doesn’t mean that they’re going to be like Louis and Zayn, in a happy and loving relationship. He should specify that, it’s an important detail, but Liam doesn’t.

Liam doesn’t say anything, just nods, licking his lips, watching as Harry grins. “I think you made the right choice, Liam James Payne,” Harry says. “The best decision really. God, can you please go back to sucking my cock now?”

Liam rolls his eyes, wrapping his lips around Harry once more. He focuses on what he’s doing, tries to remember to breathe out of his nose. Harry’s doing nothing to hide his moans, so if someone walks into the locker room they’re screwed, genuinely and sincerely screwed. Liam really should tell him to be quiet, should tell him to bite down on his hand or something but Harry’s are busy Liam sees as he glances up, watching as Harry is squirting lube onto his fingers, trying to keep it out of the spray of water.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Liam asks, pulling off of Harry, fist still stroking him as he watches one of Harry’s fingers disappear inside his hole.

“Brought it with me, pulled it out of my pocket,” Harry gasps, his eyes fluttering closed as he fucks into himself with his fingers, Liam’s mouth wrapping around him once more. “You’re going to fuck me,” he adds. “I’ve got a condom and everything.”

Liam groans, the vibrations hitting Harry’s cock and rolling straight up his spine.

>>>>

Liam’s fingers tap against the keys of his laptop, trying his hardest to focus on his paper. He’s written the introduction, had enough time to actually get that bit finished before Louis and Zayn start to get loud. Liam’s not even sure what they’re doing, because he doesn’t want to waste the energy turning in his chair to glare at them. Instead he stares harder at the screen, thinking maybe if he glares at the cursor long enough he’ll be able to zone in on his laptop, his senses blocking everything out completely.

It might be working. Maybe. Liam can almost see the start of the next paragraph, the sentence forming together in his head.

And that’s when Louis barks out a laugh, the sound high, cutting straight through Liam’s train of thought. Then Zayn laughs and the two of them are a giggling mess behind Liam, for whatever reason.

Liam grabs his phone from off his desk, not really sure how much more of this he can take. He texts Niall, hoping that he’ll save Liam from this place.

_Niii do u think I cld do hw n ur roommmm plsssss_

He sets his phone down, going back to trying to focus on his paper. Which he could write in his sleep, honestly. His outline is so detailed, so thorough that there shouldn’t be any kind of struggle. He spent hours, days almost working on it so that this part would be a breeze. But Liam needs quiet. He needs certain people, a certain roommate and their boyfriend to grab their things and leave because Liam really needs to do his work.

Liam waits ten minutes and when Niall doesn’t answer, he swivels his chair around and says, “Is there a reason that you’re not at Zayn’s place right now?”

Louis looks up at him, traces of his smile still present around his eyes. His laptop is resting on his lap, an ear bud in his ear while the other is in Zayn’s ear. “Harry’s taking a nap.”

“So you wanted to be quiet for him?”

“Well, I mean, he’s done it for Zayn,” Louis says, frowning at Liam, obviously confused. “Are we bothering you by being here?”

Liam sighs, shaking his head. It’s fine. He’s just stressed, the paper messing with his head. “No, it’s fine. But I think I’m going to go to the library, I really need to get this paper done.”

Louis nods. “Alright, well, Zayn and I are going to get pizza later, I’ll text you.”

“That sounds great, Lou,” Liam says, gathering up his things. He already knows that he won’t be joining them, but he’s not going to say anything to them now. He’s just going to work on his paper. He’s going to the library and he’s going to work.

>>>>

Liam doesn’t go to the library. Of course he doesn’t.

Liam goes to Zayn and Harry’s dorm, knocking on the door and waiting for Harry to answer. It takes a minute, but eventually Harry swings the door open, his hair messed up and eyes almost squinted shut. His voice is deep and rough when he says, “What’s up?”

“Can I please work on my paper in here? Zayn and Louis are in my room, and I need quiet. I’ll be quiet. Please?” Liam begs, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Harry nods but doesn’t say anything, just steps out of the way to allow Liam to enter. He motions towards the desks, both his and Zayn’s, and then drops down on his bed, going back to sleep. Liam smiles at him, making sure to be quiet as he sits down at Harry’s desk. He doesn’t want to disturb anything on Zayn’s, for fear that he’ll notice and get upset with Harry.

Being in Harry’s dorm while he sleeps is a bit odd at first but Liam manages to write four pages, almost five during the time it takes for Harry to wake up from his nap. He wakes slowly, his quiet snores subsiding, turning into gentle groans as the blankets move, his feet stretching out from under it. He lies there for a moment and Liam watches him, fingers hovering over the keys just in case Harry isn’t actually waking up for real, just shifting around in his sleep.

When Harry sits up, rubbing a fist over his eye, he looks confused, startled to see Liam sitting at his desk, grinning at him nervously. He smiles back, tossing the blankets off his body as he stands. He doesn’t say anything, just moves across the room and grabs a towel out of his closet.

Liam doesn’t breathe again until Harry is inside the bathroom, shower water slapping against the tiled floor. It’s an obvious sign that Harry is okay with him being here, so Liam doesn’t think about it, just goes back to working on his paper.

>>>>

When Harry steps out of the bathroom twenty minutes later he’s wearing nothing more than a pair of grey briefs, towel forgotten inside the bathroom. Liam startles, his eyes going wide as he watches Harry cross the room, paper long forgotten. He’s not sure he can do another thing today, in all honesty. Liam might need to—he’s not sure, but he needs something. He needs Harry, actually. That’s what he needs.

But Liam’s never really been very good at asking for what he wants. He’s never been the type. He wants to be, so very badly, but that’s not him, unfortunately. So naturally, the only thing Liam does is save his word file, close his laptop and sigh. It doesn’t tell Harry what he wants, of course it doesn’t, but that’s all he think to do.

“You finish that paper?” Harry asks, stepping out of the kitchen with an apple in hand.

Liam shakes his head, shoving his laptop in his bag. “No, but it’s nearly finished. I think maybe three more pages and I’ll be good.”

“Well, glad my room could be of service.”

“Yeah. No, thank you. Of course,” Liam stutters, turning the chair around to look at Harry properly. “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything without you letting me in here. Or…maybe not. I could have gone to the library.”

“Yeah? And why didn’t you?”

“I don’t—“ Liam shakes his head. He doesn’t even have an answer to that, the only thing he can think to say is that he wanted to have some company, but wanted someone that he knew would let Liam do what he needed to do, not bother him with a million questions. “I don’t know, just felt like coming here.”

Harry nods, taking another bite of his apple before he sets it down, the thing nearly finished. He sits down on his bed, back leaning against the headboard. “You want to watch a movie?” Harry asks, grabbing his laptop from off the floor.

“Now?”

“No, maybe next week,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “Obviously now, Liam.”

“Okay, yeah,” Liam says, kicking off his shoes as he crawls into bed next to Harry. It’s a tight fit, a twin with two fully-grown boys on it, but they make it work. Kind of. Harry has his elbow in Liam’s ribcage, their legs pressed together. Liam’s trying not to press his shoulder into Harry’s too much, but it’s nearly impossible.

Barely ten minutes through the movie Harry sighs, lifting his laptop up and moving around. He turns on his side, throwing a leg over Liam’s and resting his head on Liam’s shoulder. It’s actually a lot more comfortable this way, Liam’s body sagging back in relief. He can breathe without the pressure of Harry’s elbow on his expanding ribs. It’s nice, actually.

“Have you ever seen this?” Harry asks, pushing the laptop onto Liam’s lap. “I don’t really know what you’re into.”

“I’ll watch anything,” Liam says honestly. “Louis and I usually just watch superhero movies, and um, like action and stuff. We’re not really—or well, I guess it’s kind of stereotypical of us. College students, boys.”

“You like what you like,” Harry says dutifully. “But that sounds like Louis. I’m not even the least bit surprised, he has a Marvel bag for Christ’s sake.”

“Hey, I bought him that.”

“Oh god, no you didn’t,” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “You did not buy him that thing.”

“I really did. Just this past year for his birthday. I saw it and knew he would love it, even bought him an Iron Man light.” Harry’s still laughing, his body vibrating against Liam’s. “He bought me a Batman costume for mine,” Liam admits.

“You’re both ridiculous.”

“Yeah, that’s why we get along so well.”

“Sometimes I don’t think Zayn and I have much in common, not like you and Louis do. We used to hate each other, for the first few months that we lived together. It was really hard.”

Liam nods, not because he can understand, not because he can agree with it, but he could see how the pair of them could clash. It’s much like how he and Louis hated each other at first, both of them too much alike but on opposite ends of the spectrum. It’s the same for Harry and Zayn, or so Liam assumes.

“But we’re good now, he’s one of the only people in the undergraduate program that I’m actually friends with,” Harry admits, pulling back a bit so he’s looking at Liam.

“Yeah, Louis mentioned that. It makes sense, though, why we never properly met.”

“Yeah. You definitely wouldn’t have let me approach you in the club, would you?”

Liam swallows, shaking his head. “No. I would have—I don’t know what I would have done.”

“It’s almost like fate then, isn’t it? Not to sound creepy, but it’s interesting. The way people meet, how fate kind of dances around it, making all the other connections until it’s finally time for two people to come together. Whether they come together in friendship, a relationship, or like us, who knows, but it’s cool to think about, yeah?”

Liam doesn’t know what to say to that, because Harry’s looking at him, with big sincere eyes, the green in them almost sparkling. Liam’s throat feels dry as he nods, because they’re not supposed to be catching feelings, but with the way Harry is staring at him, the way his eyes are shining, the sincerity behind them, Liam thinks it’s only a matter of time.

“So you met Louis when you moved here? Or did you always know him?”

“When I started school,” Liam says. “I signed up for the dorms under that…the random roommate match thing, I’m really not even sure what they were thinking matching us together, but it’s worked out.”

“So you didn’t know anyone here?” Harry asks, leaning back on the pillow so that he could stare up at Liam. Liam shakes his head. “No one?”

“No one. What about you?”

“There’s this girl, Louise, she’s friends with my sister, Gemma, and she was in her final year when I started. I was really lonely, didn’t know anyone and Zayn and I didn’t get along so I latched onto her. All of her friends are in her grade and like, when she graduated I was already used to having older friends so when they finished undergrad and went into the grad program I just kept hanging out with them.”

“That’s why all your friends are older?” Liam asks.

“Yeah, but they’re about to graduate, so that’s why Zayn’s been trying harder to get me to come out with you guys,” Harry explains, playing with the hem of Liam’s shirt, his fingertips ghosting across Liam’s skin. “So I guess I’d have been seeing a lot of you even if we didn’t meet in the bar.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Liam says, trying to focus on the movie, ignoring the flutter beneath his skin at Harry’s touch.

>>>>

Running into Sophia wasn’t a part of Liam’s plan for the night. He wants to grab dinner from the school’s café, then head back to his room and lie in bed for the night, maybe watch a movie with Louis. It’s been a while since it’s been just the two of them, and Liam is exhausted, his afternoon with Harry tiring him out completely.

But plans can change, so Liam waves to Sophia, moving across the room to take a seat at her table with her. “Mind if I join you?” Liam asks, already taking a seat.

“Of course not,” she says, still smiling. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Liam answers honestly, picking up his fork.

“Are you really?” She asks, one perfect eyebrow raised in disbelief. “It’s not like you to just disappear, thought maybe you had something going on.”

Liam shakes his head. “No. No, sorry. I’m fine, honestly. I promise.” Sophia seems to accept it, nodding her head in approval. “What about you? You’ve been good?”

“Of course I have,” she answers, taking a bite of her food. “I went on a date last night, you know.”

“No, didn’t know.”

“Yeah, his name was Cliff.”

“Cliff?” Liam repeats, trying not to pull a face. He’s probably a great guy. Liam shouldn’t judge his name. He didn’t pick it, after all.

Sophia laughs, nose wrinkled as she shoves at Liam’s shoulder. “Yeah, Cliff. It wasn’t that great, though. He’s nice, but there wasn’t a connection. At least I didn’t think so.”

“Well, I hope you find someone better than Cliff,” Liam tells her, biting back a smile. “Maybe you’ll meet a great guy, someone named Canyon or Hill or something just as earthy.”

“Oh god, you’re awful,” she laughs, making Liam smile even wider. “But what about you? How’s your love life? Any wonderful girls I should know about?”

Liam sighs, shaking his head. There’s definitely not a girl, no. Instead of answering Liam takes a bit of his food, shrugging at Sophia. And if his mind briefly drifts to Harry, well…it’s not like he’s going to tell anyone.

>>>>

Niall sits everyone down after practice, pacing in front of them like he’s determined, a man on a mission. It’s been several long minutes, the team sighing as they watch him, knowing what’s coming.

“Our first game is this Tuesday,” Niall starts, turning around to face them, a fierce look in his eyes. “This is the last practice until then, mostly because I made plans this weekend and I don’t really feel like cancelling them.”

“What do you think her name is?” Louis whispers and Liam nudges him in the ribs, biting back a smile.

“Basically the objective next week is to give the ball to the good players. Some of you, I don’t want to name any names, but Oli, you’re shit at this, man. Josh, you’re no better. And we want to win this year, right? It was embarrassing coming in seventh place last year.”

“At least we weren’t in last place,” Josh says, trying to be optimistic. Niall just glares at him.

“There are eight teams in the league, Josh. This year nine.”

“So when we come in seventh again we’re one step closer to first?” Louis throws out, grinning wildly when Niall turns to stare at him.

“I know we do this for fun, that’s why none of us signed up to play for the school, but it would be nice if we could beat their record. Those shits are always trying to brag about coming in fifth.”

“So if we come in fourth?” Andy asks.

“Fucking perfect,” Niall says, finally cracking a smile. “Just have fun with it, but don’t give the ball to Oli or Josh, honestly. I would like a shot at winning.”

“You know what, fuck you, Niall. I’m not that bad,” Josh says, standing up and brushing grass off his pants.

“Josh, you scored in your own goal twice tonight,” Liam says, because he really is awful at this. No one understands why he’s on the team. He’s an amazing guy, fantastic, but a really shitty player.

“We could dress you up like the other team, confuse the ref so every time you do that on Tuesday we’ll get the point,” Louis supplies, side stepping the fake punch that Josh tries to throw at him, the other boy flipping him off instead. He’s smiling, so at least Liam knows he’s okay with the teasing.

“He’s much better in games,” Liam says, walking with Louis towards the bleachers where Zayn and Harry are waiting for them.

“We all are,” Louis tells him, rubbing at his nose. “We just like to piss Niall off in practice.”

Liam laughs, shaking his head as Louis jogs off, jumping on Zayn, his boyfriend catching him just barely, Harry having to help support them.

“You smell,” Zayn says, pulling a face.

“We just got done doing a thing, you might have noticed,” Liam says, grabbing his bag off the grass. “It involved running around and stuff, physical activity. Have you heard of that?”

“No, I haven’t,” Zayn says as Louis slides off of him, grabbing his bag and Zayn’s hand.

“Well, actually,” Louis mumbles, this evil glint to his eyes that makes Liam nervous. “If we’re talking about physical activity, the kind Zayn’s used to anyway, I guess now is the best time to ask if we can have the room for the night.”

Liam nods, water bottle pressed between his lips until he actually takes in what Louis just said. “Wait. What?”

“We want to use our dorm for the night, is that cool?”

Liam groans. “Oh god. Where am I supposed to sleep?” Louis shrugs. “Niall, do you think I could crash in your room tonight?” Liam shouts, watching as Niall shakes his head.

“Sorry, Ed’s brother is in town, our place is cramped for space, Payne,” he says, smiling apologetically before he goes back to his conversation with Maz.

“You could sleep in Zayn’s bed,” Harry offers, biting his lip when Liam turns to look at him. “It’s available, after all.”

“Wow. That’s a marvelous idea,” Louis says, nodding. “Harry, you’re a genius.”

“Yeah, man, that’s cool,” Zayn says. “The least I could do since we’re kicking you out, yeah?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Liam mutters, watching as Louis and Zayn rush off, both of them grinning like they just won the lottery. He turns to look at Harry, his eyes narrowing. “Did you plan this?”

“I might have told them to go out,” Harry says, taking Liam’s bag from him. “I might not have. I guess you’ll never find out.” He winks at Liam, throwing his arm over Liam’s shoulder as they walk back towards Harry’s dorm.

>>>>

“So the only thing you want for me to do is to cut the carrots?” Liam asks, watching Harry move around his kitchen with ease. He’s already sliced his vegetables and now he’s pouring something into the metal thing, Liam’s already forgotten the name of it.

“Yeah, I’ve got the rest taken care of,” Harry assures him, grinning.

“Are you sure? Because I can cut other things.”

“I know you can, Liam. And that’s the beautiful thing about stir-fry, you can throw whatever you want in it and it’s never wrong.”

“Well, that’s not true. I once had a stir-fry with cranberries, wasn’t actually that good. The rest of it was, just not the cranberries.”

“Cranberries?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, setting the knife down. “It was close to the holidays, when cranberries make appearances in everything. I guess I should have expected it, but it was still kind of strange.”

Harry hums, taking the carrots away from Liam so that he can throw in the bowl with the rest of their vegetables. Harry told him the trick is to cook it all together, letting it become one. Liam’s never made a stir-fry, so he’ll trust him.

“Alright, stand back and let me do my thing,” Harry says, winking at Liam as he gets to work, dumping the rice and their veggies into the metal bowl thing on the stovetop Liam takes the opportunity to grab a beer from Harry’s fridge, cracking it open and taking a long steady pull from it.

“Where did you learn to cook?” Liam asks, because they’re in college, no one knows how to cook food like this. Absolutely no one. Everyone is running around with take out boxes, food from the café, or ramen noodles. It’s a waste that the school put kitchen’s in the dorms, in Liam’s opinion. He’d much rather get his macaroni from the café than have to make it himself.

“My mom,” Harry says, eyes still trained on the food. “When I was younger, and my parent’s got divorced, I wanted spend more time with her. I didn’t know how to do that, not really anyway, so every night I’d help her make dinner. We’d spend Sunday night planning out the weeks’ meals, then we’d go to the store, buy everything we needed, and then spend the week cooking together.”

“Was it just you and your mom?”

“No, I’ve got an older sister, Gemma.”

“Right,” Liam says, shaking his head. He remembers Harry mentioning her. “Was it hard? When your dad left?”

Harry frowns, shaking his head. “At the time it was, but looking back on it, no,” Harry says, flicking the flame off. “What about you? Are your parents still together?”

“Yeah, they’ve been married for ages. I don’t think they’ll ever get divorce, they’re crazy about each other,” Liam says, smiling fondly. “Do you need any help with that?” He asks, watching as Harry starts to get down some bowls.

“No, I’m good. What about siblings?”

“Two sisters, both older.”

“Names?”

“Ruth and Nicola.”

“Ruth and Nicola,” Harry mumbles quietly, like he’s memorizing the information. “You want the green bowl or the red one?”

Liam takes the red one, following Harry into the other room. He pulls Zayn’s chair over towards Harry’s desk so they can eat together, their knees knocking together beneath the surface. The food is good, amazingly so. Like, Liam’s pretty sure he hasn’t had a meal this good since he was last at home, when his mom had made enough dishes to rival a buffet, making him eat a bit of everything like it was Christmas dinner or something.

“This is amazing,” Liam tells him around a mouthful of food, he doesn’t even care about manners at this point, the food is that good. He wants more of it and he’s not even finished yet. “Honestly, you’re amazing, Harry.”

Harry’s biting back a smile, his cheeks stained red.

“Amazing,” Liam repeats, just in case Harry hadn’t heard him before. But maybe Liam shouldn’t be surprised; Harry’s proven amazing at everything he’s done so far.

>>>>

Liam doesn’t make it to Zayn’s bed. Liam doesn’t think either of them were under the false pretense that Liam ever would. He’s got Harry underneath him, the two of them shedding their clothing hours after dinner, and he’s three fingers deep inside of him. Harry squirms and his movements uncontrollable with Liam’s fingers inside of him, curling and pressing against him in just the right spot as they kiss. Liam wants to really hold him down, just to get Harry to stop moving.

“Do you think you could fuck me?” Harry moans out, fingers digging into Liam’s ribs. “God, please.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Liam says, pulling his fingers out, wiping them on the shirt next to Harry’s head. “I think I can do that.” He takes the condom Harry gives him, ripping open the wrapper, tossing it wherever, and then rolling it onto his cock while Harry readjusts himself, fluffing the pillows behind his back.

“Hurry up,” Harry whines, spreading his legs open wide and tugging Liam between them, groaning. “Why are you going so slow?”

Liam rolls his eyes, slicking his cock up with lube. “Why are you being so impatient?”

Harry huffs, hands resting on Liam’s shoulders. “I’m not, I’m just—“ Harry doesn’t finish his statement, his words being cut off by a moan as Liam pushes into him, his legs wrapping around Liam’s hips, tugging him closer. Harry can never get enough; Liam’s come to find out.

Liam laughs, pressing a kiss against Harry’s temple. “Figured that’d shut you up,” he says, pulling out slowly before pushing back in, hips moving agonizingly slow as he works Harry into it. It’s overwhelming, feeling the white hot heat of Harry wrapped around him, and the only thing Liam can think to do is to fuck into him a little harder, a little faster, and press his lips against Harry’s.

Harry’s lips are smooth, soft as they move against Liam’s. But Harry’s awful at kissing during sex, because he doesn't know how to stop making noise. He’s whining, moaning into Liam’s mouth as he grips at his back, his biceps, his ass, trying everything he can to get Liam closer, to get in just a little bit deeper.

“Shit,” Harry breathes out, biting down on Liam’s bottom lip. “Keep—just, yes. Just there—don’t—Liam,” Harry whines, his hands on Liam’s hips, pulling him down closer so with every thrust Liam’s stomach is rubbing against Harry’s cock, he can feel the smooth drag of it against his abs, aware of every twitch in Harry’s body.

“Fuck,” Harry grits out, voice hoarse. “Liam, why are you so quiet?”

God, Liam doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do as he snaps his hips forward, fucking into Harry still.

“So good, Li.”

And it is so good, Liam wants more of it, wishes he could last longer, wishes he could go long enough that he could watch Harry being fucked for hours, that’s what he wants, to just live in this perfect moment for as long as he possibly can. But he can’t, not tonight, not when Harry’s cursing in his ear, muttering about how good it feels to have Liam inside of him, how bad he wants his cock, how bad he wants Liam.

Liam comes with a start, his orgasm ripping through him with such force that it surprises him, the movement of his hips faltering for just a second as he comes, his entire body shaking at the force of it. His eyes are clenched shut, mouth hung open as he groans.

Harry gasps beneath him, his own orgasm hitting him as he comes, thick spurts of come on both his and Liam’s stomach. Liam opens his eyes, watching in awe as Harry comes, his head thrown back, fingers digging into Liam’s skin. It’s beautiful and Liam wants to brand it into his memory, because if Liam hadn’t just come, he could come again, just from watching Harry like this.

>>>>

Harry’s awake before Liam, tracing patterns across Liam’s stomach and humming under his breath. Liam doesn’t even know what time it is, just knows that he feels good. He feels relaxed, his entire being sated, thanks to Harry.

And it’s different waking up with Harry now than it wasthat first morning, the morning after their second night together, because Liam knows Harry now. He knows him. And he feels—

Liam’s not sure what he feels for Harry.

He feels gratitude towards the fact that Harry hasn’t told anyone his secret. He feels an obvious lust for the other boy, one that sometimes takes over his senses, like last night. Liam feels content to be with Harry, just like this, in the way where they don’t have to be talking or doing anything, even if sometimes Harry gets jittery, needing to say something, to reassure Liam that he’s still there. Liam’s not sure why he always feels the need to talk, but that’s Harry. And it’s endearing. Harry is endearing.

So yeah, Liam might be feeling a few things for Harry. He’s not sure what that means, though, because this is just them. The two of them enjoying what they can do for the other physically and building a friendship to match it.

Liam thinks they have the perfect thing happening here and he only hopes that these—these feelings don’t get in the way of it all. He’d hate to lose this.

>>>>

The five of them eat dinner together the next night, Harry, Louis, Zayn, Niall and Liam. They don’t go anywhere fancy, just the schools café because Louis and Niall wanted tacos, while Zayn wanted Italian. There were too many arguments about what they were eating, so when Harry sighed and said they should just go to the café, everyone agreed.

Liam thinks what he has on his plate is spaghetti, he’s not sure, though. The sauce is weird, thicker than what he’s used to, the same with the noodles. It’s still good, so Liam doesn’t complain, just takes another bite and continues listen as everyone else talks around him.

“Did you ever finish that paper?” Harry asks, leaning closer to Liam.

“Yeah,” Liam says around a mouthful of food, nodding. “I got it done the other day before practice.”

“When are you going to find out how you did on it?”

“I’m not sure, probably next week. My professor usually takes her time on these things,” Liam says.

“So do you think that you’ll have some free time next week? Like, I know you have the game on Tuesday, but what about after that? Maybe on Wednesday?” Harry asks, a hopeful expression on his face.

Liam thinks about it, trying to remember his course load and if he’s got anything else going on. He can’t think of anything major, so yeah, he’s got time for Harry. “I can do that. What’d you have in mind?”

“Liam,” Louis interrupts, slapping the table in front of Liam. “There’s Sophia. Aren’t you going to say hi?”

Liam turns and notices that she’s talking to some guy and yeah, he’s definitely not going to get in the way of that. “No, I’m all right,” he says, turning back to look at Louis.

Louis frowns. “Did you get in a fight or something? Is everything okay between the two of you?”

“Babe,” Zayn laughs, shaking his head. “Leave him alone.”

“I’m confused,” Harry says, looking between everyone, staring mostly at Liam, though. “Who is Sophia?”

“Payno’s girlfriend,” Niall supplies, winking at Liam. “And he’s damn lucky, too. I’d have stolen her from him ages ago if he wasn’t my best friend, and one of my star players.”

“Oh,” Harry says quietly, blinking in confusion. “That’s—okay.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Liam says to the table, staring mostly at Louis. “She’s not.”

“You slept at her place just the other week. Calvin said he saw you both having dinner together the other night,” Louis scoffs, shaking his head. “I don’t know why you’re embarrassed by it. Just admit it.”

“There’s nothing to admit.”

“So you didn’t sleep at her place?” Niall asks.

Liam falters, because he can’t tell the truth. He can’t tell them that he was with Harry because that would… He just can’t do that. It would reveal too much. They’d know and that’s not—Liam doesn't’ want that to happen. Not yet. But he doesn’t want to lie.

Fuck, Liam thinks, wanting to slam his head against the table. Maybe if he knocks himself unconscious then he won’t have to deal with this. Maybe it’ll ease the look on Harry’s face, it’ll make him look a little less hurt, a little less betrayed. Maybe it’ll make Louis and Niall leave him alone, like Zayn said.

But Liam doesn’t hit his head on the table. Instead he lies. Of course he lies.

“Yeah, I spent the night at her place,” Liam mumbles, trying to reach out for Harry under the table. He wants to use his body to tell him that he’s lying, that he didn’t mean it. But Harry’s packing his tray up, tossing all of his stuff onto it.

“I just remembered that I have to meet Nick,” Harry’s saying, standing up and grabbing his food. “I’ll see you at home, Zayn.”

“Yeah, alright,” Zayn says, frowning. “You alright, man?”

“Fine, yeah. Just—I’m running late,” Harry mumbles, turning and walking away.

Fuck. Liam’s—he’s fucked up. And he doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to make it better, doesn’t know what to say to his friends or to the boy who—Liam doesn’t know. The boy he hurt? The boy he’s been telling the truth to who thinks he lied? The boy whose running across campus right now, off to places that Liam doesn’t know about.

All Liam can do is sigh, dropping his fork down on his tray, no longer hungry.

>>>>

It takes hours, hours of walking around campus and all of the surrounding locations before he finds Harry. Liam’s feet hurt and he thinks that he has blisters on his heels, his shoes rubbing against his skin longer than they’re used to. He’s sitting on a bench in front of the fountain, the one in the park in the city’s center. He’s alone, his knees drawn up to his chest, watching the water shoot up into the sky.

Liam feels like he doesn’t breathe until he sees him, because that’s who he’s been looking for, that boy sitting right there, the one that deserves an explanation.

“Can I sit here?” Liam asks, hesitant and unsure, watching as Harry sighs, shrugging. “You ran off.”

Harry looks at him, rolling his eyes. He drops his legs down to the ground, turning slightly towards Liam. “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid thing to say,” Liam mumbles, licking his lips nervously. “I just didn’t expect it, I guess.”

“You know, Liam, I was fine with being your dirty little secret or whatever when I thought that, you know, maybe you just weren’t ready to be out about your sexuality. Everyone has to do things at their own pace, and I understood that, but I’m not okay with being your secret when you’re still pretending to be straight with an actual girlfriend,” Harry spits out, his eyes blazing with betrayal.

“We broke up months ago,” Liam breathes out, shaking his head. “During the summer.”

“Did you cheat on her?”

Liam shakes his head. “No. No. God, never. I was dealing with a lot internally. I was trying to figure out why it felt like I was noticing boys a little more suddenly. But when I realized it wasn’t all that sudden, it was just something I ignored, tried to bury deep,” Liam explains, breathing out slowly. This is the first time he’s ever said this to anyone, and it figures that person would be Harry.

“I loved her. Truly. She’s an amazing person, but it wasn’t working out. She was taking a summer course and she got so wrapped up in the fashion program, which I don’t blame her, because I was busy trying to understand who I am,” Liam says. “We realized together that it was time to end things, so we did. But I never cheated on her. On anyone for that matter.”

“Then why do Louis and Niall think you’re together?”

“I lied to them,” Liam says, obviously he did. That’s all he does anymore, to everyone but Harry, it seems. “I told them I was with her when I was with you. I used her as an excuse so that I could go to the club. Louis just assumed and when he thinks he’s right, he won’t take no for an answer.”

“I’m glad you’re not that person, Liam. The person to cheat on someone,” Harry says, tongue wetting his lips. Liam can feel the but in that statement and his stomach knots up, dropping down to the floor. “But I can’t be your secret anymore. I like you, Liam. A lot. I really like you and I just can’t do this anymore.”

“You’re not a secret, Harry.”

“Yeah? So you’d be willing to tell your friends. You’d be willing to tell them that you’ve been seeing me, that you’ve been sleeping with me, and that you have feelings for me? You’d be willing to do that?” Harry asks, his head tilted as he looks at Liam. “And I’m not talking about the world, just your friends. Someone, fuck. Just Louis. Whoever you want. Would you be willing to consider telling them?”

“I—I—“ Liam stutters, his mouth dry. He doesn’t—This is a lot. Harry’s asking a lot of him. He’s asking for—He’s asking for Liam. He’s asking to be with Liam, and that’s. God, that’s so much. “I don’t know, Harry.”

Harry nods, like he knew that’s what Liam was going to say. “You know, before we met, Zayn and Louis used to always talk about you. They’d talk about how amazing you are, how kind you are. They’d tell me stories, always going on about this Liam guy that I knew nothing about. They’d tell me how brave you were. I’ve thought you were an amazing person well before I ever knew you, Liam Payne,” Harry says, sighing as he stands up. He looks at Liam sadly, like he hates this.

Liam hates this.

“But if you can’t even consider telling your friends then there really isn’t anything left for us,” Harry says, kissing Liam’s forehead before he walks away.

Liam wants to chase after him, thinks that maybe he should, but instead he stays where he is. He waits until he knows that Harry is gone before he drops his head in his hands. It’s everything that Liam didn’t want to happen, feelings getting in the way of their arrangement. But it was bound to happen with someone like Harry, someone so amazing.

Liam only wishes he were as brave as everyone thinks he is, because maybe then he’d have never fucked this thing up.

>>>>

Louis stares at Liam from across the room, toeing out of his shoes quietly. Liam knows he looks awful, already in his pajamas at barely eight in the evening, swaddled in his duvet like he’s a baby, needing the pressure of the blanket’s comfort around his body. Mostly he’s tangled up in it, having rolled himself up like a burrito.

“Are you alright?” Louis asks, still frowning. Liam doesn’t blame him because in his mind it makes no sense for Liam to look upset about anything, nothing has happened, as far as Louis knows.

Liam shakes his head, hair rubbing against the pillow, probably matting from the friction. “No, I’m fine. I think my spaghetti was tainted.”

“Are you going to be sick?” Louis asks, moving to grab Liam’s trashcan to set it next to the bed.

“No.”

Louis nods, making a decision in his head as he pats the side of the bed. “Scoot over,” he says, grabbing Liam’s laptop off the nightstand. Liam rolls as best as he can, shifting around until his back hits the wall behind him. “Are you sure that you’re not going to be sick?”

“I’ll be fine, promise. Just a stomach ache,” Liam lies, trying his best to smile. He’s sure that it comes out more like a grimace but it’s probably better that way, his body helping him keep up with the lie. His stomach does ache, though, along with other parts of his body that he doesn’t want to think about. He just hurts, all of him.

“Is Grease alright, or does this stomach ache require the comfort of Bruce Wayne?” Louis asks, fingers hovering over the keys. They own all the Batman movies; same with Grease, so there’s really no reason to watch them illegally.

“Bruce Wayne, I think,” Liam answers. He’s not about to watch a movie about a man doing the person he loves wrong and having to make up for it. He wants to watch Batman save the world, or Gotham City at least.

Louis turns it on, lying back and pressing in close to Liam, the laptop resting on both of their laps. Liam sighs, dropping his head on Louis’ shoulder, thinking that this might be making things a little better. He thinks, if only a little bit.

>>>>

Their game is cancelled, the field getting rained out with the sudden downpour. Niall’s devastated, naturally.

“This is awful,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his beer. It’s his third one, but no one is going to try and take it away from him. Even if he has a nine am class in the morning. “We worked fucking hard for that game.”

“I know we did,” Liam says, patting Niall on the shoulder. “But at least now we’ll be even more prepared for the next game, not even Josh can ruin it.”

“Josh, that awful shit,” Niall says fondly, shaking his head. “Bet it’s his fault, probably flooded the fields, made it worse.”

“Only naturally,” Louis adds. “I think I heard him call the fire department, ask them to use their hoses to really make it nice and wet.”

“It’s definitely not the rain,” Zayn says.

“I’m gonna text him,” Niall says, pulling his phone out. “He’s running laps for all of the next practice, I don’t even care.”

Liam smiles, taking a drink of his own beer. Niall’s not being serious, or at least Liam hopes not. It’s definitely not Josh’s fault that it’s been raining since late Monday afternoon, carrying over to Tuesday. It’s raining now, the rain droplets pelting against the bar’s window after a short break, long enough to give Niall hope that they’d have the game and long enough to get them to the bar.

“Where’s Harry?” Niall asks, looking up from his phone. “I thought he was ditching the grads for us.”

“He’s been busy,” Zayn says with a shrug, eating the chip that Louis offers him. “Hasn’t been home much, but like, I don’t know, he always seems to get swept up.”

“He’ll be back,” Louis assures them, nodding like he knows for sure.

“Of course he will,” Zayn says.

Liam doesn’t say anything. He hasn’t seen Harry since he walked away from him at the fountain and he’s been trying his hardest to forget about him. There’s a conversation taking place around him, something about Harry and then something about practice, Liam’s not sure. He’s zoned out completely, focusing on the condensation of his beer, watching as a droplet of water rolls down the side and spills onto the table.

>>>>

It’s seven in the morning on a Friday when Niall calls them all to the field for an emergency practice. Everyone is exhausted, dragging their feet as they walk onto the field. Louis is still drinking his tea, the pot he made Zayn make, as he got dressed, pouring it in a to-go mug as they rushed out the door. Several people are wearing sunglasses, probably trying to hide the fact that they’re sleeping from Niall.

“Why are we here?” Liam asks, dropping down on the grass, resting his head against Louis’ knee. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Obviously we’re here to practice.”

“But what?” Stan asks, face hidden under his beanie. “It’s fucking dawn.”

“It’s not, actually,” Andy says and Stan kicks his leg out, aiming for him.

“We’re here because I found us a new player,” Niall explains, grinning. “It took ages, loads of begging, but he’s willing to play for us. So like, now we’ll have a relief. You guys can actually get a break, sometimes.”

“Alright, and who is this mystery player? Because we’re all here,” Louis says.

“It’s Harry,” Niall exclaims and Liam’s body seizes up, his muscles tightening as he turns in the direction that Niall is pointing.

Harry’s walking onto the field slowly, decked out in a Nike tracksuit, looking like he stepped right out of a catalogue. Liam’s throat swells up and his brain short circuits, because Harry’s on the team. Harry, the boy he hasn't seen in forever, is on the team. Harry, who Liam hurt, is on the team. Harry, the boy he was hooking up with in secret, is on the team.

Harry is on the team.

Liam’s having trouble processing this sudden development in his life, because what?

“What the hell is Harry doing out there?” Zayn shouts from the bleachers and Liam nods, yeah. That’s good. That is a very good question. Liam would ask that same thing, if he could get his brain to work.

“He’s on the team,” Niall hollers back, shooting Zayn a thumbs up.

“No, not good,” Zayn shouts. “He’s going to break his neck. He shouldn’t be allowed on the field. Harry, get over here.”

Liam doesn’t see what Harry does but whatever it is has Louis cackling, while Liam’s palms start to sweat. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. Liam hasn’t really had the time to think about how this should go but he was under the impression that they’d graduate, Harry would forget all about Liam, find himself a proper boyfriend, someone who isn’t afraid to be who they are, while Liam continues being nothing more than a one-nighter to random guys around town.

Harry wasn’t supposed to be on the team. Why is he ruining this? Why won’t he just leave Liam alone to be miserable and to torture himself with images of Harry prancing around town with different people. And all of them would be named Not Liam. People would ask who Harry was seeing and everyone would say Not Liam.

Alright, so Liam’s being ridiculous, but whatever. It’s his life that he fucked up, so he might as well continue to screw himself over by being ridiculous.

Practice goes awfully, horribly so for Liam. It goes well for everyone but Liam. He stands in the goal, hands shaking as he tries to avoid Harry’s eyes, which means nearly every person scores against him. Niall spends the majority of morning screaming at him, Louis keeps trying to pull him aside to find out what’s wrong, and Harry, well, Harry is acting like Liam doesn’t exist and that’s… That’s fine.

At the end of it Liam feels worse than he has all day, wishing that he hadn’t gotten out of bed today. He skips his classes, opting instead to lie in bed, angry at himself, feeling sorry for himself, and wishing he knew how to fix it.

>>>>

Liam figures out what to has to do, or well, he’s always known what he needs to do. He has to tell people about himself, he has to be honest. That’s the most important thing, that’s why he’s in this mess, because he doesn’t know how to tell the truth, doesn’t know how to be himself.

It takes a lot of courage, a lot of Liam telling himself that he can do this, a lot of opening and closing his phone, tossing it across the room to prolong the inevitable. But eventually, before he can stop himself, he gets Sophia to agree to meet him for coffee.

Her facial expression is blank when he tells her, her brows knitted together and mouth pulled together in a careful line, like she’s not sure of what she should be doing with her face. She doesn’t look angry or appalled or anything else awful though, she just looks confused, a bit.

“Oh,” she finally says after a moment, nodding. “Is that why-“

“No,” Liam says, shaking his head. “You were—that’s not why we broke up.”

She nods again, taking a sip of her coffee. “So who else have you told?”

“Right,” Liam mumbles, rubbing sweaty palms on his jeans. “That’s the thing. Um, only one other person knows, besides myself, obviously.”

“Louis?”

Liam swallows. “No. Um, his name is Harry. He’s kind of like, okay,” Liam pauses, taking a deep breath. He needs to get this out. If he tells someone, someone he knows he can trust, someone who his life isn’t so interconnected with, someone he can afford to lose, if he has to, then he can tell the people who matter. Maybe not tomorrow. But he can. “I went to this club, a while ago, and I met him there. I go there a lot, um. You know, looking for—looking for guys.”

“And you met him.”

“Yeah and I lied, gave him a different name so he wouldn’t be able to trace me back here. And like, so we kind of—um. Are you okay hearing this?”

“I’m fine, Liam,” she says, placing a hand on his knee. “Go on.”

“So like, we hooked up in the bathroom. And then the next week he took me back to his place, only it wasn’t his place, because—well, this is where it gets interesting. He’s Zayn’s roommate.”

“Zayn?”

“Louis’ boyfriend, yeah.”

“Oh wow,” she mutters, eyes going a little wide. “So he found out you lied?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, launching into the story of what happened, telling her everything. Telling her all about how he lied and said he was out with her when he was with Harry, how Louis thought they were back together, how Liam ruined absolutely everything and how, maybe he might have feelings for the other boy. Massive feelings, but just maybe—or most definitely, whatever, Sophia doesn’t need to know all that.

“Oh Liam,” she says, shaking her head as she laughs. “Leave it up to you to get yourself into this kind of mess.”

“I know.”

“Well, it sounds like Harry is trying not to push you and trying to respect the fact that you’re not ready for everyone to know by giving you space,” Sophia says, and Liam nods. “But Liam, no matter how you feel about him, you can’t ask him to hide with you. That’s not fair.”

Liam nods once more, because he knows that. And that’s why he feels awful. That’s why he’s not upset with Harry, just himself. “I know that and like, I’m not doing this for him. He’s just…inspired me, I guess, to tell someone.”

“Are you going to tell your friends?” Sophia asks, fingers tapping against the table, her eyes watching Liam carefully.

“I don’t know,” Liam says. He laughs lightly, shaking his head. “I’m trying not to have a panic attack because you know.”

“Well,” Sophia says, sighing. “Your friends love you, so maybe you should trust them.”

“I’ll tell them. I want to,” he says. “It’s time that they know. I just—“

“Need time?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, smiling at her. He can feel a little crack in his armor, but it’s not as awful as he thought it would be. His world doesn’t feel like it’s crumbling around him, Sophia isn’t looking at him any different than she always has, and Liam breathes a little easier, because one more person knows.

>>>>

“Are you going to give us a pep talk?” Louis asks, bumping into Liam as they stumble towards their field. There’s a ton of players out, people coming and going to get to their own games.

“I’m going to tell you to win, that’s all,” Niall answers, dropping his bag down on the ground when they get to the field, sitting down on their set of bleachers. He’s staring out at the field, eyeing up the other team. “They look small, yeah? They’re tiny, right?”

“Miniscule,” Louis answers, stretching. “I can hardly see them.”

“So we can totally win this, even with Josh.”

“Absolutely with Josh,” Liam tells him, shrugging out of his jacket.

“What’s wrong with Josh?” Harry asks, sliding in behind Liam. A chill runs up Liam’s spine, having forgotten that Harry was going to be here. He knew, obviously, but he spent most of the morning telling himself that it’s not anything to worry about and the other half telling himself that Harry is nothing more than an illusion.

“Nothing’s wrong with him,” Liam mutters, looking at Harry quickly before darting his gaze down to Harry’s cleats. “Niall just likes to blame him for our failures, that’s all.”

“Liam, you’re in goal today,” Niall tells him, scrolling through his phone. “Louis, you’re forward, obviously. Harry, I think we’re going to put you in mid-field, yeah, start you off slow.”

“I thought I was a relief,” Harry states, biting down on his bottom lip nervously. “I didn’t think—I’m playing?”

Niall looks at Liam first then back to Harry. “Yeah, you’re not starting, you’ll sit out here with me and then I’ll pull someone, send you in, pull someone, send them back in, and so on. So yeah, you’ve got to play.”

“Harry, are you—“

“I’m fine, Liam,” Harry snaps, yanking his arm out of Liam’s grasp. “I just—I wasn’t sure since I’ve only done one practice. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He doesn’t sound convincing but he’s dropped his bag on the ground, running out onto the field to warm up with the rest of the team. Liam follows suit, making sure to stick close to Louis. He keeps an eye on Harry, though, watching to make sure that he doesn’t stay as nervous as he looked a moment ago, and that Niall is going easy on him during warm up.

>>>>

As Niall suspected, this team is easy. Well, the team isn’t, they keep gaining possession of the ball, working closer towards Liam but one of Liam’s teammates is almost always there, sliding in from behind and stealing it, passing it off to someone else. So it’s not the team that’s easy, because they’re definitely making them work, but they’re winning at this point so Liam is going to consider this an easy time.

It’s not until ten minutes before half time when Harry comes in to play, someone finally requesting to be brought out. He’s not in midfield like Niall told him he would be, but he’s up front with Louis, looking tense.

“Please,” Liam begs, unsure of what to ask for as he watches Harry run across the field. He should be paying attention to the ball, watching where it’s going but he’s staring at Harry, watching as he takes the ball, passes it to Calvin, who runs with it before passing it over to Louis. It gets taken from him, one of the other team’s defenders kicking it across the field.

Everything is happening so fast, everyone moving quicker than Liam can keep up from his end, especially with the ball on the other side of the field. But he does know one thing and it’s that Harry scores, his mouth dropping open when the ball soars behind him into the net.

Harry looks ecstatic and Liam screams from his place in the goal, jumping in the air and cheering for him. Harry’s running towards Niall, jumping on him and screaming about how that was for him, how he did it for Niall, and then Louis is jumping on them.

Liam wishes that he was involved, wishes that he had an excuse to press in close against Harry. He can’t, though, so he remains in his goal, shooting a thumbs up to Zayn, whose still standing there with his mouth hung open in awe.

It only gets worse after that, there’s one minute left until half time, and Liam needs the break, needs some water. He needs to sit down and breathe. But nothing ever works out that way, because thirty seconds to time Harry goes down, tumbling over as a player slams into him trying to take the ball from him. He doesn’t get back up.

Liam watches in horror as Niall rushes over towards him, Louis following suit, the other players going down to watch, to wait and see what happened. Liam stays where he is, waiting for someone to give him a sign or something. It’s when Louis turns and motions for Zayn that Liam bolts, running across the field as fast as he can.

“What happened?” Liam pants out, staring down at Harry. “What happened?”

“He hurt his ankle,” Niall says, thumb rubbing against the injured area. “Harry, you gotta tell me what to do. Can you walk? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“What happened?” Zayn asks, finally appearing in next to Liam. “Haz, can you talk to me?”

Harry’s got his face pressed into Louis’ thigh, breathing deeply. It takes a minute but finally he says, “the guy slammed into me. I don’t know what happened but his cleat when into my knee, knocked me over, and I fell funny. Fuck,” he grits out when Niall puts pressure on it, trying to assess him better.

“He should go to the hospital,” Zayn says, sighing. “Fuck, I told you not to play. You could get hurt. You are hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” Harry says, releasing a deep breath as he sits up. “I just needed a moment. I’m fine, I promise.”

He tries to stand but as soon as pressure is placed on his ankle he collapses, clutching onto Louis who is closest to him.

“Fine my fucking ass,” Zayn scolds. “You’re going to the hospital.”

The ref is talking to Niall, trying to figure out what he wants to do and Liam acts without thinking, moving to lift Harry off the field. He’s aware of how he looks, Harry draped in his arms as he follows Zayn across the field towards Harry’s car.

“I can walk,” Harry mutters, glaring at Liam.

“Yeah, I saw that. I must have gotten confused when watching you lying on the ground and toppling back on the ground,” Liam says, shaking his head. He doesn’t set Harry down until they’re in the car, demanding that he elevate his leg before he climbs into the driver’s seat.

>>>>

Harry’s ankle is swollen, massively so in Liam’s opinion, by the time they get to the hospital. He doesn’t let Liam pick him back up, instead he wraps one arm around his neck and Zayn’s using them for support as he hops into the emergency room waiting room. It takes ages for them to get him in a room, far longer than Liam likes. Harry doesn’t say a word to him, giving him the cold shoulder.

Liam wants to do something but he’s not sure what, so he does the only thing it seems Harry wants from him, to stay quiet.

Louis and Niall show up five minutes after Harry gets a room, wandering back on his own with the doctor, leaving Zayn and Liam in the waiting room alone. It’s when Harry goes back that Liam starts pacing, moving across the waiting room floor as Zayn tells Louis and Niall that they don’t know anything, but he’s sure that he’ll be fine.

Liam wants to believe it, he wants to, but his mind is wandering off to horrible places. Harry’s leg never being able to recover, him having to get it amputated, or the doctor doing something awful and he’s not able to see Harry ever again. He almost can’t breathe, this bubble of worry settling in his chest and making his entire body ache.

“Liam, can you please sit down? You’re going to walk a hole into the ground,” Louis says, leaning back in his seat. “He’s fine, he’s probably just getting an x-ray to make sure that it’s not broken.”

“You’re making me dizzy,” Zayn says.

“Yeah, if anyone should be worried it’s me. I lost my star player,” Niall sighs, wincing when Louis punches him in the arm. “I didn’t see you score a goal.”

“You don’t have a monopoly on being worried, Niall. Liam can be concerned, too.”

“We're all concerned,” Zayn says, looking at Louis. “Not just Liam. Harry’s my roommate.”

“I know that. I wasn’t saying no one cares about him besides them,” Louis defends, staring at Zayn. “Are you implying that I’m being insensitive?”

“That’s exactly what he’s implying,” Niall says, obviously wanting to start a fight. “I think he’s also saying that you should head to the cafeteria and get me a bag of chips, because you really hurt my feelings by implying that you have a monopoly on feelings for Harry.”

“Oh shut up, Niall,” Louis says, reaching around to slap at him. “Zayn, you didn’t answer me. Did you think I was being insensitive?”

“I didn’t say that,” Zayn sighs, shaking his head.

Liam doesn’t know how much more he can take of this, of their arguing, of all this talk about caring for Harry. It feels like a taunt, like they’re dangling Liam’s secret over his head and doing everything they can to hint at what Liam was doing with Harry, like they know. Liam can’t take it, and it’s almost involuntarily when he blurts out:

“I might be in love with Harry.”

All three of them go silent, turning to look at Liam. Liam winces, because that’s not what he meant to say.

“Or no, I like him. I do. A lot. But like, I could be in love with him, if you give me a couple months,” he explains, wetting his lips, still pacing the floor.

“Excuse me?”

“What?”

Liam sighs, because this is worst. He’s the worst. He had better plans for this. That’s a lie; he had no plan, not even a little one. The only thing he knew was that he had to do this, because he’s tired of lying. He’s tired of his friends thinking he’s someone that he’s not.

“Harry and I have been sleeping together for a while, like, um. I met him at this club. For gay men. And um, like, I didn’t think I’d see him again but—turns out he’s Zayn’s roommate,” Liam says, and he’s aware that none of this is coming out right, not as eloquently as he would have liked. But he’s already started, so he might as well finish. “It started that night in the club but it’s been going on since, even after we met.”

It’s Louis who speaks first, saying, “I thought,” he swallows, blinking, “I thought you were hanging out with Sophia.”

“I know,” Liam says, sighing, finally turning to look at them. “I know. I’m horrible. I’m a horrible liar. I didn’t know what to do. It was new; I didn’t want it to change things. I didn’t want you to—I’m a liar. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh Liam, you big idiot,” Louis mutters, jumping up and pulling Liam into a hug. “You’re so stupid, you’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” Liam mumbles, his face shoved into Louis’ shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m a liar. I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”

“What the hell are you apologizing for?” Louis asks, laughing. “You’re not an idiot because you’re gay or because you’ve been hooking up with Harry, you’re an idiot for ever thinking I’d never accept you,” Louis assures him. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have a straight roommate?”

Liam laughs and it’s the lightest he’s felt in months, to have everyone he cares about know besides his family, to have his best friend know, to have him understand this part of Liam. It feels amazing and Liam feels foolish for having ever thought otherwise of his friends.

“Oh fuck, let me in on that action,” Niall says, standing up and wrapping his arms around Liam’s back, his face shoved in Liam’s shoulder blades. “Come on, Zayn. You know you want in on this hug.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Zayn says, sighing as he stands up. He has a smile on his face, as he pressed in closer, wrapping his arms around them. “Can’t believe you’ve been sleeping with my roommate and never told me.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sighing. “I’m not really ready for the world to know, like, I need to get used to this but I really like Harry.”

Zayn nods and everything feels okay, his friends wrapped around him, other hospital patrons staring at them. Liam doesn’t care because for once he’s being honest with every person in the room, including himself.

>>>>

A nurse tells them they’re allowed back in Harry’s room after his x-ray is finished. They all run back, cleats clicking against the linoleum floor. Liam’s the last one in the room, letting the others in first. Zayn squeezes his shoulder as he passes, offering Liam a smile, silently letting Liam know that it’ll be okay. Everything will be fine.

“So what’d they say?” Louis asks, taking a seat in the chair, Zayn on his lap and Niall on the edge of Harry’s bed.

“They think it’s just a sprain,” Harry says, shrugging, motioning towards the ice on his ankle. “Twisted it funny when I fell, but they took x-rays anyway, just to make sure it’s not worse. I’m just waiting for a doctor to come in and tell me what I know, then we can leave.”

“Does this mean you’re out for the whole season?” Niall asks.

Harry laughs, shrugging. “I have no idea.”

“Well, at least you’re still alive,” Zayn mutters, leaning back against Louis. “I thought for sure that you’d break your neck and not just sprain your ankle, but whatever. Glad you’re good, man.”

“Yeah, and since you’re alive and we don’t have to worry about your untimely death,” Louis sighs, swatting Zayn’s hand away from his mouth. “I think we should talk about how you’ve been sleeping with my best friend behind my back, don’t you?”

“What?” Harry asks, his eyes going wide as he turns to look at Liam.

“I thought you were going to die,” Liam exclaims. It’s not his fault.

“It’s a sprain,” Harry retorts. “You can’t die from that, Liam.”

“I know that now, don’t I?” Liam mumbles, folding his arms over his chest protectively. “Honestly, I was worried, okay?”

“So you death bed confessed your sexuality to everyone? You outted yourself?”

“We’re going to leave,” Zayn mumbles, grabbing Louis’ hand and tugging him out of the room, Niall following behind. “I’ll let Liam drive you home, call me when you’re on your way.”

Harry nods, watching as they go. Liam kind of wishes they would have stayed, then maybe Harry can’t kill him. Liam thinks he might be angry enough that not even a sprained ankle could stop him.

“I’m sorry that I told them. Or no, I’m not. I’m just sorry I did it and mentioned you,” Liam says, groaning, because that came out wrong. “I’m not sorry about you. You’re great. I’m just sorry I didn’t ask your permission before I mentioned you, because this very much has to do with you. And I’m also sorry that I kind of shoved you into my metaphorical closet. That wasn’t…that wasn’t cool of me.”

Harry shrugs. “I was the one who came to you about continuing this, not the other way around. I put myself there.”

“Yeah well, you’re not someone to be ashamed of.”

Harry nods, licking his lips. He’s wringing his fingers together, unsure of what to do with his hands as he stares at Liam. It makes Liam feel a little bit better to see Harry looking almost as nervous as he feels.

“So, did you only do this because you were worried that I’d die?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know,” Liam admits, shrugging. “I wanted to tell them. I just didn’t know how to do it, and then they were out there arguing about who had a monopoly on caring for you, and like, obviously I don’t. But they just kept talking about how much they care about you so I told them how I felt. I told them everything, minus a few details.”

Harry nods, staring at Liam intently. “So it really wasn’t because you thought something awful happened to me?”

Liam shakes his head. “No, I think if you had stuck around a while longer I would have cracked and told them everything,” Liam tells him, grinning. “It took me a while, but I was already catching feelings for you, Harry, it just took you walking away for me to realize that I’m a massive, massive idiot.”

“Eh,” Harry shrugs. “I think you’ve always been a bit of an idiot.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“But that’s kind of why I fell for you, isn’t it?” Harry says, biting back a smile. “Or maybe that’s why I fell for James, I can’t remember.”

“Oh god,” Liam groans, covering his face in his hands. They were having a moment, about to have a moment anyway. “Am I ever going to live that down?” Liam asks, pulling away to see Harry shrug, considering it.

“Might be able to forgive you more if you get over here,” Harry says, patting the side of the bed. Liam nods, trying not to move too quickly as he sits down on the bed. Harry’s having none of it though, he grabs Liam by the shirt, tugging him down and connecting their lips.

Liam sighs into the kiss, because Liam was wrong before. This is a perfect thing, what he has here, honesty and sincerity, all tied together in genuine feelings. This is perfect and Liam hopes that they don’t let it go, that they only make it better.

>>>>>>>>

Liam’s out on the field this game, playing as a forward with Louis, Oli taking over in the goal so that Liam can actually play. It feels good, running down the field with the ball between his feet, Louis just a few feet away, ready to take the ball whenever Liam needs him to.

There’s someone running towards him so he passes it, rushing forward, watching as Louis passes it off to Josh, who kicks it back over towards Liam. There’s a clear path to the goal so Liam runs, picking up the pace and maneuvering around the other team.

It’s a split second later that he hears Niall’s scream, his coach cheering from the sidelines when Liam scores, the ball grazing the goalie’s fingers as it soars into the net. He’s got Louis on his back, shaking him wildly and slapping at his chest. He kisses Liam’s cheek, loud and wet, leaving his drool on Liam’s cheek.

“Finally you’re doing something for this team, Payne,” Louis teases, slapping him on the ass as he rushes back towards center field.

Liam’s still grinning, turning to try and find Harry on the bleachers. He sees Zayn but not his boyfriend and he frowns, trying to look for him. And that’s when Harry’s body collides into his own, knocking him on his back, the two of them falling to the ground together.

“You did it,” Harry shouts, smiling as he kisses Liam. It’s deep and Harry’s fingers are tangled in Liam’s hair, straddling his waist in the middle of the field.

“What was that for?” Liam asks when Harry pulls away, amused but definitely confused. A lot confused.

“You won the game,” Harry cheers, trying to shake Liam, the action proving difficult with Liam lying on his back in the grass.

Liam laughs, shaking his head. “No, babe, there’s still fifteen more minutes. It’s not over. We haven’t won anything yet.”

“Oh,” Harry mumbles, glancing up, biting back a smile when he sees Louis laughing at them, shaking his head. He climbs off of Liam slowly, helping him up. The other team doesn’t look happy, neither does Niall or the ref but Liam doesn’t care. He kisses Harry once more, rubbing his shoulder so he’s not as embarrassed. “If you win this game then I’ll blow you in the car,” Harry says, grinning. He leans up and kisses Liam once more, rushing off towards Niall, that side of the field closer to the bleachers. He trips on his way, stumbling and Niall has to catch him.

Liam laughs, running towards the center of the field so they can finish the game.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on [tumblr](http://zaynlilo.tumblr.com), along with a [rebloggable post](http://zaynlilo.tumblr.com/post/120234685237/left-all-the-stars-in-your-city-nights-hes-got-a) for the fic!


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